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Sirinitii   ^undaii-®cliool 


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M.    C.    CHUnCH,    SOUTH. 

CHARLESTON,    S.    C. 


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The  Editor-Bishop: 


Linus  Parker, 


His  Life  and  Writings 


BY  REV.  CHAS.  B.  GALLOWAY,  O.D. 

Editor  of  the  New  Orleans  Christian  Advocate. 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY  BISHOP  McTYEIRE. 


NASfJ^LLE,  TENN.: 

SOUTHERN    METHOniSiT   PfBLISHIXO   H0T7SX. 

1886. 


Entered,  necording  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  188C, 

Bv  THE  Book  Agents  or  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Chubch,  Sorrn, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


SAJNIA  BARBARA 


CONTKNTS. 

Introduction  (by  Bishop  McTyeire) 7 

HIS  LIFE. 

CHAI'TEU    I. 

Biiili  and  Boyhood 17 

(jIAFrER   II. 

Early  Keligious  History 23 

CHAPTEn  III. 
Call  to  the  Ministry 27 

Chaptkr  IV. 
His  First  Circuit 31 

Chapter  V. 
Two  Years  at  Shreveport 36 

Chapter  VI. 
First  Year  in  New  Orleans 43 

Chapter  VII. 
First  Year  in  New  Orleans  (Conlinued) 57 

ClIAPTKIl  VIII. 
The  Diligent  City  Pastor 02 

Chapter  IX. 
Ct)rrcsj)ondence  Up  the  River 70 

Chapter  X. 

Second  Marriage — John  ( ".  Burruss 87 

Chapter  XI. 
Again  in  the  Country ' 9o 

Chapter  XII. 
Twelve  Years  an  Editor 99 

Chapter  XIII. 
Three  Years  a  Bishop 103 

Chapter  XIV. 
Personal  Traits  and  Characteristics 107 

Chapter  XV. 
Last  Hours  and  .Burial .' 113 

(3) 


4  Contexts. 

HIS  W^RITINGS. 

THK    PkKACHEU    r'AI,I,ED.  *  '*""' 

Call  to  the  Ministry 123 

The  Ministerial  Woe ^ 126 

The  Preacher  at  Work. 

Goilly  Craft 131 

O)inforting  God's  People 134 

What  and  IIow  to  Preach 137 

Cumulative  Preaching 141 

The  Preacher  in  Methodism. 

The  Itinerant  School 144 

One  Advantage  of  Itinerancy 148 

The  Preacher,  Youno  and  Old. 

The  Young  Preacher 151 

The  Old  Preacher 155 

The  Church  in  the  World. 

Added  to  the  Church 161 

Church  Pillars 164 

Counting  the  Cost 167 

Garments  not  Defiled 171 

The  Woru)  in  the  Church. 

Forbidden  Diversions 175 

I^ose  Notions 179 

Kecreation  in  Religion 181 

Peril  to  Methodist  Experience 184 

Family  Religion. 

Children  at  Home 187 

The  Bible  at  Home 1 90 

Prayer  in  the  Family 1 92 

The  Son  of  Thine  Handmaid 195 

Soul  Education. 

Training  for  the  Life  to  Come 1 99 

At  the  Feet  of  Jesus 202 

Waiting  for  the  Lord 205 

Christian  Duties. 

The  Duty  of  Pleasing 209 

Helping  One  Another 213 

Serving  the  Will  of  God J15 


Contexts.  5 

ClIRISTIAX   GkACES.  »•*«« 

Contentment t2I9 

Love  in  Keligion '222 

Tlie  Denial  of  !Self 22") 

The  (irace  of  (jentlenciip 22S 

The  Ixiifying  Grace 2-31 

Tlie  Surprises  of  Grace 23o 

The  Bkliever's  Possessions. 

"All  Things  are  Yours" 240 

The  Secret  of  the  Lord 243 

Christ's  Sympathy 246 

Melody  in  the  Heart 250 

Divine  Companionship 253 

Prayek. 

Learning  to  Pray 257 

Christ's  Example  in  Prayer 200 

Prayer  and  the  Holy  Spirit 264 

Prayer  Ended 267 

Missions. 

Loosing  from  Troas 272 

Jonah  and  Foreign  Missions 276 

The  Appeal  of  Missions 280 

An  Old  Objection  to  Missions 284 

Dead  and  Buried 287 

The  Mission  of  (ioi.i). 

Christ  Over  Against  the  Treasury 2S9 

Cost  of  Souls 292 

Economizing  lor  (Jod 296 

Sowing  Money 299 

From  Grace  to  Grace. 

The  Birth  of  the  Pjarit 303 

After  Conversion 306 

The  Spiritual  Face 310 

The  Glory  in  Us 313 

Shining  More  and  More 317 

The  Likes  of  the  Kingdom. 

Inspired  Comparisons 320 

Like  Pa-ssions 323 

Child-likeness 326 


6  Contents. 

Planting  and  Tkansplanting.  ,»„ 

Planteil  in  tlie  House  of  the  Lord 330 

Transplanting r 333 

Teachings  of  the  Clouds. 

Clouds  Without  Water 337 

Clouds  After  the  Rain 340 

The  Wind  and  the  Clouds 343 

Days  and  Seasons. 

Thanksgiving 348 

Christinas  Greetings 350 

New-year 353 

The  Gospel  of  Spring 356 

The  Fall  of  the  Leaves 361 

Birthdays 363 

Light  ()i:t  of  Darkness. 

Out  of  a  Dark  Room 367 

Not  Orphans 370 

God's  Chastisements 373 

The  Discipline  of  Failure 376 

The  Life  That  Now  Is. 

As  a  Tale  that  is  Told 379 

"I  Would  not  Live  Alway" , 382 

The  Duty  of  Living 384 

Nothing  to  Live  For 388 

The  Gkave  and  Beyond. 

The  Death  of  Friends 393 

Dying  as  a  Little  Child 397 

What  We  shall  Take  with  L's ". 400 

Heaven  a  Character 403 

MlSCKLLANEOL'S. 

One  Office  of  the  Spirit 406 

Golden  Vials  Full  of  Odors 409 

The  Heated  Term 413 

The  two  Marvels  of  Jesus 415 

Old  and  New  Methodism 419 

Elijah's  Mantle 422 

The  Cake  and  the  Cruse 425 

I>enten  Cook-books 429 

Revival  E.xpedients 432 

An  Effectual  Quarantine 435 


INTRODUCTION. 


Such  a  life  as  Linus  Parker's  ought  to  be  lived  over  again  many 
times.  A  character  like  his  deserves  to  be  perpetuated  by  a  memo- 
rial. The  world  was  the  better  for  his  presence,  and  this  benefit 
may  be  prolonged  and  extended  by  a  suitable  portrait,  now  that  he 
has  left  it. 

There  was  a  healthful  Christian  influence  emanating  from  Linus 
Parker,  as  a  man  and  a  minister.  His  virtues  were  real  and  im- 
itable.  There  was  no  quality  abnormal,  eccentric,  or  of  doubtful 
import  about  him;  no  precocious  growth;  no  moral  rebate;  nothing 
strained  or  sensational.  A  sound  mental  constitution;  a  genial,  but 
not  excessive,  social  temper;  a  taste  for  the  true  and  beautiful  as 
natural  as  is  an  ear  for  music;  and  a  generous  heart — these  formed 
in  him  a  basis  upon  which  tlie  purifying  and  consecrating  Spirit 
wrought  a  model  character  and  a  useful  life. 

It  is  allowable  here  to  describe  my  first  impressions  of  him,  and 
the  beginning  of  our  acquaintance. 

The  colonizing  policy  of  New  Orleans  Methodism  had  been  car- 
ried to  excess.  Three  weak  stations  (or  missions) — Steele  Chapel, 
Andrew  Ciiapel,  and  St.  Mary's — occupied  ground  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  city,  wliich  one  commodious  and  central  church  could 
supply.  Each  had  its  own  Quarterly  Conference  and  officers,  and 
claimed  the  privilege  of  enjoying  its  little  autonomy,  and  of  starving 
a  preacher.  William  F.  Brown,  tlie  pastor  of  the  first,  had  died  of 
yellow  fever  the  year  before  the  time  of  which  I  write;  and  Henry 
B.  Page,  on  liis  way  from  Conference  to  take  charge  of  the  second, 
had  been  lost  in  the  burning  of  the  Yallobusha  steamer,  on  the 
Mississippi  River. 

Bishop  Paine  decided  to  unite  these  three  charges  into  one,  and  in 

(■) 


8  Intkoduction. 


December,  1848,  sent  me  from  the  Alabama  Conference  to  effect  tliis 
reorganization ;  and  with  the  consolidated  congregations  and  their 
assets — small  indee<l,  two  of  the  three  structures  being  built  of  "llat- 
boat"  lumber — to  build  a  good  church  somewhere  near  the  corner  of 
Magazine  and  Felicity  streets.  This  task  was  not  accomplished  with- 
out friction;  the  majorities  were  willing,  but  there  were  unwilling 
minorities.  The  situation  suggested  a  text — Psalm  cxxii.,  last  four 
verses;  and  one  Sunday,  early  in  1849,  while  preaching  on  this 
text  in  one  of  thethreeconventicles,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a 
young  man  in  the  congregation:  jet-black  hair,  and  line  eyes  of  that 
shade;  slender,  and  of  full  height.  Possibly  I  had  sem.  him  before, 
but  now  for  the  first  time  I  perceived  him.  He  had  about  him  the 
earnest,  abstracted  air  of  one  who  was  revolving  a  great  and  devout 
question.  He  was  such  a  listener  as  tiie  pulpit  feels.  Well  do  I  re- 
member how  his  responsive  attention  caused  the  preacher  to  expand  a 
certain  part  of  the  sermon  beyond  the  original  plan.  Linus  Parker 
was  at  that  time  hearing  the  voice,  "  Son,  go  work  to-day.  in  my 
vineyard."     And  he  answered  and  said,  "I  go,  sir;"  and  went. 

After  that  day  the  parsonage  was  often  favored  with  his  company. 
From  the  way  he  quietly  walked  into  the  heart  of  every  member  of 
the  household  and  took  his  seat  there,  and  was  ever  at  home,  I  un- 
derstood the  mystery  of  those  friendships,  tender  and  strong,  which 
he  formed  elsewhere  through  life.  There  was  no  mannerism,  no 
wordiness,  no  set  effort  to  make  himself  agreeable;  but  a  modest 
consciousness  of  trutli  in  the  inward  parts  that  seemed  to  sjiy:  "I  am 
in  no  hurry;  I  like  you,  and  when  you  come  to  know  me  yon  will 
like  me." 

He  succeeded  me  at  Felicity  Street  Church,  and  my  family  fell 
lieir  to  that  nourishing  discourse  and  gentle  pastoral  care  which 
never  can  be  forgotten.  My  wife  insisted  he  had  but  one  fault: 
"Whenever  you  quoted  any  sentiment  or  told  him  of  any  thing  that 
had  occurred  which  he  did  not  like,  his  dissent  was  so  abruptly 
expressed  as  to  leave  on  you  an  uncomfortable  feeling,  as  though  you 
were  responsible  for  tlio  sentiment  or  the  ocourrcnce. 


Intkoduction.  9 


It  was  in  that  pulpit,  and  over  that  congregation,  I  witnessetl  with 
deepest  approval  his  pastoral  methods.  For  though  he  was  not  a  re- 
vivalist, as  some  understand  the  term,  seldom  did  a  year  pass  under 
his  ministry  without  a  revival.  There  were  special  seasons  of  re- 
freshing; souls  were  converted  and  added  to  the  Church.  He  hon- 
ored the  preaching  of  THE  AVORD,  and  looketl  for  the  Spirit  to  use 
it  for  conviction  and  quickening  and  salvation.  Nice  though  his 
taste  was,  he  would  listen  without  weariness  and  with  unaffected 
pleasure  to  the  humblest  embassador  of  God  who  had  something  to 
say  based  on  God's  word.  I  can  never  forget  his  criticism — to  which 
he  was  little  given — upon  hearing  a  popular  preacher.  In  reply  to 
my  question,  "  IIow  did  you  like  him  ?"  his  hand  was  lifted  to  his 
face  and  impatiently  waved  off— a  characteristic  gesture:  "No  ideas. 
Vox,  et  pwierea  nihil."  He  loved  diggers  into  the  mine  of  trutli, 
however  rougli  their  tools. 

Linus  Parker  would  have  been  an  acceptable  contributor  to  the 
«S)3ec<a/oj»  in  Addison's  day.  The  nom deplume  under  which  he  wrote 
for  the  New  Orleans  ChrUitian  Advocate  was  taken  from  the  steam-boat 
on  which  he  ascended  Red  River,  "Woodsman."  It  required  no 
keenness  of  editorial  instinct  to  discern,  by  his  first  paper,  that  he 
had  a  gift.  The  manuscript  needed  correction  in  one  particular 
only:  it  had  no  paragraphs — from  beginning  to  end  it  was  run  to- 
gether in  an  imbroken  whole.  And  this  was  the  style  of  his  ser- 
mons. The  divisions  were  in  liis  own  mind,  and  the  occult,  logical 
processes  were  evolved  and  thrown  off  without  any  breaks.  There 
were  no  "firstlys  "  and  "  thirdlys"  and  "  finallys."  The  effect  of  his 
sermons  remained  with  you,  but  it  was  lianl  to  reproduce  them. 

As  a  Church  officer,  in  any  capacity,  he  had  these  excellent  quali- 
ties: intense  admiration  for  truth  and  honesty,  great  love  of  justice, 
proneness  to  take  the  side  of  the  weak,  and,  without  being  suspicious, 
he  was  so  judicious  that  no  "  ring"  could  capture  him. 

The  Christian  experience  of  Linus  Parker — by  no  means  a  solitary- 
case — presents  a  problem  which  I  coidd  wisii  to  solve,  or  so  to  pre- 
fpnt   it  that  others,  more  capablp,  micbt  furnish  tlic  solution.     His 


10  Introduction. 


acquaintances  might  suppose  that  his  religious  life  began  when  the 
young  man  attended  the  meeting  at  old  Poydras  Street  Church,  in 
New  Orleans,  went  up  to  be  prayed  for,  joined  the  Church,  and  at- 
tached himself  to  the  Sunday-school  and  the  class-meeting  there. 
But,  in  fact,  he  was  converted  years  before  that — even  when  he  was 
a  little  child.  How  can  we  make  the  most  of  childhood  religion, 
conserve  it,  develop  it?  What  can  be  done  for  those  who  are  in 
the  perplexed,  perilous,  lamentable  condition  of  backsliders  from 
that  blessed  estate?  How  can  that  dropped  stitch  be  picked  up,  or 
connection  be  made  over  that  missing  link?  Or,  rather,  how  can 
this  too  often  occurring  lapse  be  prevented?  As  a  tree  whea  rived 
up  sometimes  shows  signs  of  violence  that  was  done  to  the  twig,  so 
these  signs  of  arrested  moral  development  frequently  meet  us  in 
the  analysis  of  noble  lives, 

I  have  heard  his  missionary  speeches  highly  commended  by  good, 
judges;  but  the  best  platform  addresses  I  ever  heard  from  him  were 
in  favor  of  the  temperance  cause.  He  went,  from  the  first,  very 
heartily  into  that  reform  movement;  but  was  a  modest  and  moderate 
smoker.  "  Brother  S ,"  he  remarked,  on  ligliting  one  of  a  fra- 
grant bunch  of  Havanas  which  a  friend  had  presented  him,  "I 
do  like  a  good  cigar.  It  is  such  an  antidote  to  fanaticism."  I  never 
saw  him  perpetrate  the  clerical  vulgarism  of  smoking  along  the 
streets,  or  around  the  doors  of  a  church.  Well  has  it  been  said : 
"  There  are  practices  so  unbecoming  the  ministerial  vocation  as  to 
be  inexpedient,  and  so  inexpedient  as  to  be  unlawful.  Cliristian 
ministers  are,  among  other  men,  like  statues  upon  a  high  pedestal, 
which  must  be  larger  than  life  to  appear  of  life-size." 

There  was  somewhat  worth  studying  in  his  friendships.  Not 
quick  to  ingratiate  himself  into  favor,  and  never  a  seeker  after  }X)p- 
ularity,  he  nevertheless  numbered  friends  among  the  most  different 
and  even  opposite  classes  of  people;  and,  though  not  compromising  in 
his  disposition,  I  doubt  if  he  ever  lost  a  friend  after  once  gaining  him. 
In  penetration  of  character  he  was  not  lacking;  but  he  abounded  in 
the  charity  of  common  sense  as  well  as  of  ])iety.     He  looked  not  for 


Introduction.  11 


perfection,  and  the  presence  of  certain  sterling  and  well-ascertained 
qualities  atoned  for  much  that  was  not  according  to  his  own  mind. 
He  enjoyed  the  prayer  of  the  negro  exhorter :  "  Lord,  help  us  to  put 
up  with  people  you  puts  up  with,  and  to  bear  with  them  j'ou  bears 
with."  Witli  felicitous  tact  he  seized  the  right  point  of  view  from 
which  to  develop  a  text.  To  unravel  a  tangled  subject,  he  began  at 
the  riglit  place,  wherever  that  was.  And  so  he  would,  without  any 
taint  of  moral  indifferentism  or  the  least  affectation,  look  upon  the 
best  side  of  character ;  or,  may  be,  make  the  most  of  the  one  virtue 
that  hid  a  multitude  of  faults. 

Of  the  various  positions  filled  by  him  in  the  Church  of  God — pas- 
tor of  a  congregation,  presiding  elder  of  a  district,  editor  of  an 
ecclesiastical  organ,  General  Superintendent — I  make  no  question  but 
that  the  first  was  most  congenial  to  his  taste.  Personal  convenience 
and  social  and  spiritual  comforts  all  lay  in  this  direction,  and  along 
this  line  of  duties.  To  have  "a  people;"  to  be  in  close  contact  with 
tliem,  and  enjoy  the  intimate  relations  and  sympathy  of  a  pastor's 
life;  to  watch  the  growth  of  individual  religion,  and  minister  to  it; 
to  know  every  one  of  his  flock  by  name,  and  be  known  and  loved  by 
them — this  is  a  rare  delight.  No  one,  with  his  fine  temperament, 
ever  passed  beyond  this  sacrod  sphere  into  wider  cares  without  look- 
ing back  to  it  with  regretful  longings.  Whatever  of  lionor  is  im- 
plied by  the  summons  of  the  Church  to  serve  in  more  public  places, 
and  to  bear  heavier  burdens,  finds  its  offset  in  this  separation  from 
the  throbbing  heart  of  a  spiritual  family,  and  in  tlie  details  of  admin- 
istration. 

The  election  of  Linus  Parker  to  the  oflSec  of  Bishop  in  the  Meth- 
odist Episcopal  Church,  South,  by  the  General  Conference  of  1882, 
was  at  once  a  surprise  to  him,  and  a  gratification  to  those  wJio  knew 
his  abilities  and  his  worth.  At  the  first  question  propounded  in  his 
consecration  to  the  office,  he  naturally  hesitated.     Tiie  Ritual  has  it: 

"Ques.  Are  you  persuaded  that  you  are  truly  called  to  this  minis- 
tration, according  to  the  will  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ? 
.   "Aus.  I  am  so  persuaded." 


12  Introduction. 


But,  while  he  conscientiously  pondered  the  matter,  before  stand- 
ing before  the  congregation  to  take  vows,  light  was  thrown  upon  the 
question  by  an  ordination  service  that  occurred  several  years  before: 

"Ques.  Do  you  think  in  your  heart  that  you  are  truly  called,  ac- 
cording to  the  will  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  the  order  of  elders  ? 

"Ans.  I  think  so." 

The  call  of  the  Head  of  the  Church  was,  in  both  cases,  providen- 
tially indicated  to  him  by  the  free  suffrages  of  his  brethren,  in  a 
representative  capacity. 

Dr.  Summers,  in  his  learned  Commentary  on  the  Ritual — a  book 
that  might  be  studied  to  profit  by  preachers — has  this  note: 

"Are  you  persuaded  (hat  you  are  truly  called  to  this  minigtration,  ac- 
cording to  the  will  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Clirist? — He  may  answer  in  the 
affirmative  if  he  has  been  chosen  by  the  free  sufTragesof  his  brethren, 
feels  that  he  lias  reasonable  qualifications  for  it,  and  that  he  is  in- 
fluenced to  it  by  pure  motives." 

It  is  possible  that  the  history  of  simony,  and  of  the  corrupt  prac- 
tices of  State  Churches,  might  disclose  the  origin  of  that  question  in 
the  past.  It  remains  a  proper  question  still,  for  the  possible  evils  it 
suggests  or  guards  against. 

A  preacher  of  excellent  standing  thus  addressed  another,  in  whose 
friendship  and  judgment  he  confided:  "I  have  been  written  and 
spoken  to  by  several  persons  about  mj'  election  to  the  episcopacy. 
What  shall  I  do?"  The  answer  was:  "Do  nothing.  As  you  fear 
God,  and  love  the  Church,  and  seek  the  path  of  safety — which  is  the 
path  of  duty — ^go  right  along  as  though  no  General  Conference  were 
approaching;  doing  nothing,  of  purpose,  to  promote  your  election ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  doing  nothing,  of  purpose,  to  prevent  it.  A 
soldier  may  not  maim  himself  to  keep  from  being  detailed  or  drafted 
for  any  service.  Ambition,  self-seeking,  and  intrigue  are  entitled  to 
no  position  in  the  Church.  Hold  an  even  scale;  and  then  you  can 
conscientiously  accept  the  result  of  the  balances  and  of  the  ballots. 
If  you  are  thus  elected,  expect  official  grace  for  official  usefulness; 
and,  without   scruple,  answer  the  question  that  meets  you  on  the 


Introduction.  i; 


threshold:    'Are  you  persuaded  that  you  are  truly  called  to  this  min- 
istration, according  to  tlie  will  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ?'  " 

Unreservedly  might  Linus  Parker  say,  "  I  am  so  persuaded." 
Brief,  hut  full  and  faithful,  was  his  term  of  episcopal  service.  The 
first  two  years  were  given  to  the  Texas  Conferences,  where  it  was 
my  lot  to  follow  him  the  next  two — -just  closed.  Everywhere  his 
name,  among  people  and  iireachers,  was  as  ointment  poured  forth. 
Another  year's  labor  in  a  different  part  of  the  Connectional  field 
showed  the  same  painstaking  and  wise  administration,  edifying 
preaching,  and  blameless  example.  Then,  with  portfolio  full  of  ap- 
pointments for  District  Conferences  and  special  occasions,  and  the 
eyes  of  the  Church  turned  on  him  with  loving  hope  and  large  ex- 
pectation, it  pleased  the  Master  to  dismiss  his  servant  from  labor, 
and  to  call  him  to  the  exceeding  great  reward. 

The  following  pages,  by  a  most  competent  and  appreciative  hand, 
set  forth  the  life  and  character  of  my  beloved  and  lamented  friend 
and  colleague.  I  approved  the  design,  and  am  thankful  for  the  priv- 
ilege of  making  the  least  contribution  toward  its  fulfillment. 

H.  N.  McTvEiRE. 


February  24,  1886. 


§is  liife. 


(15) 


mmm  l 

BIRTH  AND   BOYHOOD, 


LINUS  PARKER  was  boin  on  the  23d  of  April,  1829, 
near  the  town  of  Vienna,  in  Oneida  county,  State  of 
New  York.  His  parents— John  and  Alvira  Parker— were 
natives  of  Connecticut,  and  of  the  finest  New  England  blood. 
To  their  sturdy  virtues,  strong  characters,  and  pure,  evan- 
gelical Christianity  Linus  was  indebted,  by  the  law  of  he- 
redity, for  the  characteristics  that  gave  him  greatness. 
"  Monica  is  better  known  by  the  branch  of  her  issue  than 
the  root  of  her  parentage,"  said  the  eloquent  Fuller  of  the 
pious  mother  of  St.  Augustine.  And  so,  however  honora- 
bly descended,  the  names  of  John  and  Alvira  Parker  will 
be  best  remembered  as  having  borne,  trained,  and  given  to 
the  Lord  a  son  of  seraphic  spirit  and  apostolic  labors. 

His  father  was  born  in  Watertown,  Litchfield  county, 
Connecticut,  August  12,  1788;  but  in  the  fifth  year  of  his 
age  removed  with  his  parents  to  what  was  then  called  "  the 
far  West."  As  was  the  custom  in  that  day,  the  entire 
household  was  packed  on  board  a  large  sled,  drawn  by  four 
oxen,  and  in  ten  days  safely  reached  their  new  home  in 
Greenfield,  Saratoga  county,  New  York,  "  a  lonely  wilder- 
ness scarcely  inhabited  except  by  savages  and  wild  beasts." 
Thence,  after  a  time,  they  moved  into  Montgomery  county, 
and  subsequently  to  Camden,  in  the  picturesque  and  fertile 
county  of  Oneida.  At  the  age  of  twenty-four  he  returned 
to  his  native  Connecticut  for  a  life-companion,  and  on  the 
7th  of  September,  1814,  married  Miss  Alvira  AVadham  in 
2  (17) 


la  The  Editok- Bishop. 

the  town  of  Goshen.  They  at  once  returne^to  New  York 
State  and  settled  on  a  farm  in  the  vicinity  of  Vienna,  wliere 
they  lived  comfortably  and  happily,  and  reared  for  the 
Lord  a  large  family  of  sons  and  daughters.  John  Parker 
was  a  man  of  great  intelligence,  firmness,  vigor  of  mind 
and  body,  and  of  large  influence.  He  commanded  uni- 
versal respect.  His  opinions  were  almost  the  common  law 
of  his  neighborhood,  and  his'counsel  was  sought  as  confi- 
dently as  the  ancients  inquired  of  their  oracles  and  patron 
saints.-  With  strong  domestic  affections,  he  preferred  the 
quiet  of  his  home  and  farm  to  the  responsibilities  of  public 
office.  But  no  doubt,  had  his  tastes  permitted,  he  would 
have  occupied  an  honorable  place  in  the  councils  of  his 
countrymen.  And  withal  he  was  a  consistent  and  devoted 
member  of  the  ^lethodist  Episcopal  Church.  He  was  a 
veritable  and  typical  pillar  of  the  Church,  durable  as  gran- 
ite and  transparent  as  light.  At  the  advanced  age  of  eighty- 
eight  years  he  fell  on  sleep  at  Johnston,  Wisconsin,  on  the 
31st  of  January,  1866. 

Alvira  Wadham  belonged  to  an  old  and  numerous  New 
England  family.  She  was  a  woman  of  considerable  cult- 
ure and  of  rare  loveliness  of  character  and  piety.  Reared 
a  stanch  Congregationalist,  she  united  the  systematic  train- 
ing of  that  communion  with  the  fervor  and  evangelism  of 
"  the  people  called  Methodists."  She  had  an  exalted  idea 
of  the  responsibilities  and  honor  of  motherhood.  Her  chil- 
dren were  not  a  tax  or  a  burden,  but  with  old  Jewish  pride 
each  was  hailed  as  a  special  gift  of  God  and  token  of  his 
abundant  favor.  Rightly  to  train  them  for  the  highest  use- 
fulness was  her  constant  study  and  earnest  prayer.  After 
a  long  pilgrimage  of  full  threescore  years  and  ten,  she  fin- 
ished her  course  with  joy  at  Johnston,  Wisconsin,  Septem- 
ber 20,  1869.  On  the  occasion  of  her  death  the  Bishoj) 
made  this  modest  mention  of  his  model  mother:  "Though 


BiKTii  AND  Boyhood.  19 

very  iiitirm  fpr  the  past  two  years,  and  at  death  her  facul- 
ties were  almost  gone,  her  tender  love  ibr  me  and  all  the 
children  never  abated." 

Milton's  oft-quoted  words,  "Childhood  shows  the  man  as 
morning  shows  the  day,"  were  strikingly  illustrated  in  the 
life  of  Linus  Parker.  The  quiet,  observant,  thoughtful  boy 
prophesied  the  modest,  dignified,  massive-brained  man.  His 
mind  was  cast  in  a  large  and  serious  mold.  Genial  and 
kindly  in  manner,  and  not  lacking  in  warm,  boyish  friend- 
ships, he  was  yet  far  removed  from  the  ordinary  follies  and 
frivolities  of  youth.  From  the  beginning  he  was  regarded 
as  a  mature  child,  having  little  affinity  for  childhood's  rec- 
reations. He  had  a  reflective  disposition  that  readily  ana- 
lyzed and  assimilated  the  gathered  treasures  of  his  eager 
observation.  Together  with  this  he  possessed  a  chaste,  ex- 
uberant imagination,  and  a  gentle  under-tone  of  humor 
that  sometimes  rippled  ^ut  in  school-boy  rhyme.  His  class 
of  reading  was  of  the  highest  order — quite  beyond  his  years. 
Histories  like  Gibbon's  "  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire"  indicate  the  character  of  his  thirst  for  literature. 
At  eleven  years  of  age  he  read  D'Aubigne's  "History  of  the 
Reformation,"  and  his  young  heart  was  stirred  to  the  depths 
by  that  graphic  story  of  the  struggle  and  triumph  of  divine 
I)rinciple.  His  father,  who  was  fond  of  reading,  and  a  man 
of  large  information,  used  to  remark,  "That  boy  reads 
understandingly.'  When  the  merest  child  he  attended  a 
"General  Training"  in  the  county-town,  which  was  quite 
an  event  in  that  day,  and,  while  others  brought  away  mem- 
ories of  spt)rts  and  revelries,  he  returned  with  a  copy  of 
the  "  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh."  On  sucli  food  his  young 
mind  fed  and  throve. 

The  habits  of  farm-life  and  the  charming  scenery  of 
Oneida  were  well  calculated  to  wing  a  young  imagination 
and  nurse  his  genius  for  books.     The  county  bore  the  name 


20  The  Editor-Bishop. 

of  a  famous,  -war-like  tribe  of  Indians,  which,  being  inter- 
preted, was  "  tribe  of  the  granite  rock."  Traditions  of  their 
daring  deeds  were  connected  with  many  spots  familiar  to 
the  thoughtful  youth,  and  intensified  his  thirst  for  historic 
reading.  The  beautiful  valley  of  the  Mohawk,  with  it« 
poetic  and  Revolutionary  associations;  the  great  Erie  and 
Chenango  canals,  crowded  with  every  curious  craft;  the 
mountain-range  that  towered  a^yay  to  the  northward,  and 
the  rugged  hills  sloping  to  the  south,  were  the  scenes  amid 
which  his  boyhood  days  were  spent. 

The  picture  of  his  paternal  home  is  lx!st  drawn  by  his 
own  skillful  hand.  He  describes  it  after  an  absence  of , 
more  than  ten  years.  He  went  away  a  beardless  boy  and 
returned  a  promising  young  preacher,  stationed  in  one  of 
the  leading  churches  in  the  great  metropolis  of  the  South. 
The  reader  will  notice  his  avoidance  of  the  perpendicular 
pronoun.     He  writes: 

"From  these  emotions  and  scenes  let  such  a  one  as 
we  have  imagined  pass  to  the  very  roof-tree  under  which 
he  was  born,  and  let  him  stroll  over  the  fields  and  woods 
of  the  old  farm.  Every  spot  and  thing  is  a  remembrance, 
and  fruitful  of  associations.  With  a  heart  wild  with  ex- 
citement, he  explores  the  old  house  from  cellar  to  garret ; 
examines  barns,  stables,  and  sheds  minutely;  climbs  the 
apple-trees  whose  fruit  he  ate  and  whose  sprouts  were  ter- 
rible; until  wearied,  he  throws  himself  upon  the  grass  and 
reposes  in  the  ample  shade  of  trees  ^rhich  his  own  hands 
have  planted.  It  seems  a  desecration  to  find  strangei-s  in 
the  old  home,  and  the  loved  ones  gone,  all  gone.  The  no- 
ble dog  that  chased  the  cars  when  we  went  away,  and  pined 
for  weeks  when  his  young  master  did  not  return,  is  dead; 
the  ancient  geese  "that  gabbled  o'er  the  pool,"  and  the 
ducks  that  quacked  in  chorus  with  them,  are  no  more.  The 
weather-cock  on  the  barn's  gable  looks  the  wind  in  the  face, 


Birth  and  Boyhood.  21 

and  the  petit  wiud-niill  beneath  it  plays  as  briskly  as  it 
played  in  days  of  yore.  There  ig  the  trout-brook  running 
quickly,  clearly,  and  as  young  as  ever.  The  changes  are 
in  living  things,  all  living  things;  but  inanimate  nature 
maintains  its  wonted  aspect,  and  even  ^rt  withstands  the 
tooth  of  time  better  than  the  hand  which  executes  it." 

And  then  he  passes  out  into  the  family  burying-ground 
and  gives  himself  to  meditation.  His  tenderly,  beautiful 
reflections  among  the  mounds  that  cover  his  precious  dead, 
and  especially  at  the  grave  of  his  little  twin  brother — "  an- 
other self  under  the  sod  " — are  as  exquisitely  delicate  and 
discriminating  as  any  thing  in  the  English  language: 

"Here  in  one  plot  is  a  row  of  little  graves — four  in  all — with 
little  head  and  foot  stones  to  mark  them.  Of  the  last  one 
but  a  single  memory  is  left.  The  babe  that  seemed  asleep, 
the  tiny  coffin,  the  gentleness  and  care  with  which  its  occu- 
pant was  put  in,  the  wringing  hands  and  sobs  of  one  who 
wept  more  than  any  of  us,  the  crowd  of  people  who  came 
and  took  the  coffin  and  the  baby,  and  their  return  no  more 
— this  is  a  picture  which  time  has  not  cffiiced.  The  next 
one  is  of  peculiar  interest  to  just  one  other.  He  was  one 
of  two  who  saw  the  light  at  once,  and  was  rocked  in  the 
same  cradle.  One  was  taken  and  the  other  was  left.  It  is 
like  another  self  under  the  sod,  and  strange,  strong  yearn- 
ings were  excited  to  see  one  so  doubly  near  and  yet  so  to- 
tally unknown.  More  than  a  score  of  years  he  has  spent 
in  the  silent  land — long  and  weary  years  to  his  cradle- 
mate,  but  bright  and  all-glorious  to  him.  Of  the  other 
two  maternal  story  says  that  they  were  blue-eyed  children, 
who,  like  buds  in  sweetness  and  beauty,  dropped  into  the 
grave.  Connected  with  their  names  are  treasured  memen- 
tos of  auburn  hair,  nicely  curled  and  carefully  kept,  and 
other  memorials,  besides  the  mounds  which  are  here.  Dear, 
dear  dust  I     Thankful  for  the  life  and  immortality  revealed 


22  The  Editor-Bishop. 

in  the  gospel,  the  sad  heart  turns  away  and  rejoices  in  the 
light  which  it  sheds  u{K)n  the  graves  of  those  who  engross 
its  affections." 

His  opportunities  for  scholastic  training  were  quite  meager. 
Methodism  had  not  then  developed  her  splendid  system  of 
education.  So,  like  many  another  leader  in  the  Church,  Bish- 
op Parker  attained  unto  respectable  scholarship  by  dint  of 
his  own  unaided  toil.  The  common  schools  of  the  coun- 
try furnished  his  only  educational  advantages,  and  they 
were  attended  not  more  than  six  months  in  the  twelve  from 
his  sixth  to  his  sixteenth  year.  One  year  he  attended  a 
somewhat  better  school  at  Binghampton,  New  York,  and 
for  four  months,  shortly  after  his  arrival  in  New  Orleans, 
he  was  a  student  in  old  Mandeville  College,  across  the  lake. 
But  by  patient  and  well-directed  private  study  he  became 
an  accurate  classical  scholar,  including  a  considerable  ac- 
quaintance with  Hebrew,  and  was  a  master  in  the  depart- 
ment of  belles-lettres. 


mmm  ii. 

EARLY  RELIGIOUS  HISTORY, 


HIS  parents  were  Christians  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name,  and 
their  religion  shed  its  aroma  over  their  home-life.  The 
children  were  not  unused  to  the  voice  of  prayer,  and  were 
early  trained  in  the  paths  of  righteousness.  So  carefully 
and  watchfully  was  Linus  Parker  reared  at  the  altar  of 
Methodism  that  he  said,  "As  a  child  I  hardly  knew  that 
any  other  Church  existed."  In  the  shelter  of  that  Chris- 
tian home  and  in  the  neighboring  church,  whose  pulpit,  to 
his  young  imagination,  was  "like  the  throne  of  Jupiter 
Tonans,"  indelible  impressions  were  made  that  in  after 
years  flowered  out  in  his  symmetrically  beautiful  character. 
Writing  from  that  old  roof  tree,  he  said:  "Amongst  the 
multiform  instruments  which  work  out  the  soul's  regenera- 
tion, those  which  bear  upon  its  earliest  consciousness  are 
most  effectual.  Not  that  these  consummate  the  work,  nor 
that  they  are  more  powerful,  but  that  without  them  all  after 
influences  would  be  impotent." 

A  sister  thus  refers  to  his  early  religious  life:  "To  us  he 
appeared  like  unto  Timothy  of  old,  knowing  the  Scriptures 
from  a  child.  Surely  they  made  him  wise  unto  salvation." 
But  the  story  of  his  first  divine  impressions,  of  his  falling 
through  the  ice  on  the  Chenango  River  and  its  influence 
u}X)n  his  religious  life,  and  all  the  circumstances  attending 
his  joyous  espousal  to  the  Lord  Christ  at  eleven  years  of 
age,  must  be  told  in  his  own  words: 

"My  first  serious  impressions  were  received  when  six  or 

(2,3) 


24  The  Editor-Bishop. 

seven  years  of  age.  At  church  there  was  a  protracted  meet- 
ing. An  old  class-leader,  passing  near  where  1  sat,  asked  lue 
if  1  wanted  religion.  1  knew  not  what  he  meant,  but  I  be- 
gan to  inquire  and  think  about  it  from  that  time.  In  1640 
— the  year  I  spent  in  Binghampton  in  the  family  of  my 
brother-in-law,  Dr.  N.  S.  Davis— I  was  brought  to  seek  the 
salvation  of  my  soul.  Dr.  Davis  was  a  most  exemplary 
Christian  and  Methodist,  and  my  sister,  Mrs.  Davis,  was 
also  a  pious  member  of  the  Church.  Dr.  Joseph  Cross, 
afterward  a  resident  of  the  South,  was  the  stationed  preach- 
er that  year.  In  the  early  s{)ring,  while  playing  and  run- 
ning on  the  ice  in  the  canal,  the  ice,  having  been  weakened 
by  a  thaw,  suddenly  gave  way,  and  I  came  near  being 
drowned.  I  was  rescued  by  several  of  my  companions 
joining  hands  and  forming  a  line  from  the  bank  to  the 
hole  into  which  I  had  fallen.  While  struggling  in  the 
water  all  my  past  life  and  sins  came  vividly  before  me  as 
in  a  moment,  and  I  promised  God,  Avhile  sinking  beneath 
the  water,  that  if  my  life  should  be  spared  I  would  serve 
him.  From  that  day  I  took  a  deeper  interest  in  my  Sun- 
day-schpol,  and  in  preaching,  and  began  at  once  earnestly 
to  pray  and  seek  salvation.  I  made  known  my  purposes  to 
no  one,  and  I  suppose  no  human  being  ever  kncAV  of  my 
religious  awakening.  I  told  no  one,  but  continued  to  pray 
in  secret  probably  for  two  or  three  months.  One  night  in 
the  summer,  after  praying  as  usual,  I  went  to  bed,  but  felt 
so  much  concern  that  I  got  up  and  knelt  again  by  the  side 
of  my  bed,  and  began  to  pray  with  more  than  ordinary 
feeling.  There  and  then  the  blessing  was  received.  *  Pre- 
cious Jesus! '  was  the  first  and  almost  continuous  expression 
of  the  joy  of  my  newborn  soul.  I  felt  melted  and  com- 
pletely transfused  with  the  heavenly  baptism.  I  seemed  to 
be  in  a  cloud  of  light,  and  the  plan  of  salvation — but  a 
moment  before  so  dark — seemed  now  perfectly  clear.     My 


Early  Religious  History.  25 

soul  was  filled  with  love.  The  Spirit  was  sent  into  my 
heart  crying,  'Abba,  Father!'  Thus  God  revealed  himself 
to  my  poor  heart  in  my  eleventh  year.  My  faith  has  never 
been  shaken  in  the  truth  and  reality  of  the  gospel  since 
that  clear  and  wonderful  demonstration.  In  times  of  temp- 
tation to  skepticism  my  mind  recurs  to  that  powerful  and 
supernatural  experience,  and  is  convinced  and  confirmed. 
For  the  space  of  a  year  I  enjoyed  uninterruj)ted  religious 
assurance,  but  afterward  fell  into  sin  and  condemnation. 
The  rock  on  which  I  came  near  making  shipwreck  was 
my  unwillingness  to  make  public  confession  and  unite  with 
the  people  of  God.  This  was  partly  from  natural  timidity, 
and  a  good  deal  from  pride.  From  1841  to  1846  I  was  a 
backslider,  all  the  time  resisting  the  Spirit  and  refusing  to 
confess  Christ." 

And  so  Linus  Parker  w'ill  rank  with  many  others  of  the 
Lord's  apostolic  chieftjiins  who  came  to  Christ  in  tender 
childhood.  Polycarp,  the  martyr,  was  converted  at  nine 
years  of  age,  President  Edwards  at  seven-,  Dr.  Watts  at 
nine,  Matthew  Henry  at  eleven,  Bishop  Hall  and  Robert 
Hall  at  eleven  or  twelve,  and  scores  in  our  American  Meth- 
odism at  a  like  early  j)eriod  of  life.  Thus  God  is  plea.sed 
to  perfect  praise  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  suck- 
lings. 

The  first  of  July,  1845,  when  about  sixteen  years  of  age, 
Linus  Parker  left;  his  father's  house  for  the  far  South,  which 
was  henceforth  to  be  his  adopted  homo.  He  came  to  New 
Orleans  an  adventurous  youth  in  quest  of  fortune.  Little 
then  did  he  know  what  a  history  he  was  to  make,  and  what 
a  memory  Providence  would  bequeath  to  the  world.  But 
his  ways  are  not  as  our  ways.  He  who  converted  a  dream- 
ing shepherd-boy  into  the  prime-minister  of  a  great  empire, 
and  made  him  the  princely  benefactor  of  his  people  Israel, 
guided  the  steps  of  this  lad  into  a  pathway  that  grew  bright- 


26  The  Editou-Bishop. 

LT  and  brighter  with  the  luster  of  a  holy  purpose  and  conse- 
crated zeal.  He  found  not  riches,  but  the  pearl  of  great 
price.  He  became  not  a  merchant  prince,  but  a  prince 
and  leader  in  Israel.  Forsaking  the  counter  and  ledger, 
he  entered  the  pulpit  and  pastorate,  and,  with  tongue  and 
pen,  became  a  messenger  of  life  and  peace  to  multiplied 
thousands.  The  Exchange  lost  a  conspicuous  figure,  but 
the  Church  gained  a  hero  and  martyr. 

Immediately  after  reaching  Xew  Orleans  he  went  across 
the  lake  to  Mandeville  College,  and  remained  there  prose- 
cuting a  course  of  study  for  about  three  months.  Return- 
ing, he  became  an  employe  in  his  brother's  store — first  as  a 
salesman  and  afterward  as  book-keeper.  From  the  very  first 
Sabbath  he  was  a  regular  attendant  at  service,  and  joined 
the  Bible-class  in  the  old  Poydras  Street  Church.  The 
Hon.  William  H.  Foster,  the  Robert  Raikes  of  the  South- 
west, was  the  superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school,  and 
the  sainted  William  Sherry,  the  Carvosso  of  New  Orleans, 
was  the  teacher  and  also  his  class-leader.  These  two  at 
once  discerned  the  fine  spirit  of  the  young  man,  and  each 
became  a  trusted  friend  like  unto  David  and  Jonathan. 
In  the  winter  of  1846  he  united  with  the  church  which 
was  at  that  time  served  by  his  old  Binghampton  pastor, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Cross.  Of  that  event  he  speaks  as 
follows:  "At  the  time  I  became  a  probationer  there  wsis  a 
protracted  meeting  in  progress,  and  I  felt,  when  constrained 
to  yield,  that  perhajis  I  was  experiencing  the  last  call  of 
the  Spirit.  Here  in  the  discharge  of  a  long-neglected  duty 
my  religious  enjoyment  gradually  returned.  I  began  by 
taking  up  every  cross,  going  to  the  altar  for  prayer  as  a 
seeker,  attending  class-meeting,  and  praying  and  speaking 
whenever  called  upon."    - 


GALL  TO  THE  MINISTRY, 


FROM  the  hour  he  united  with  the  Church,  Linus  Parker 
felt  renewed  convictions  of  a  divine  call  to  the  ministry 
in  greater  power.  From  his  earliest  religious  consciousne&s 
such  im|)ressions  had  vaguely  pursued  him,  alternating  in 
vividness  and  urgency  with  the  mutations  of  his  religious 
experience;  but,  as  was  his  wont,  the  momentous  question 
was  only  settled  after  the  most  thorough  conviction  and  the 
calmest  deliberation.  He  hated  shams  and  dreaded  mis- 
takes. Not  until  the  clear  trumpet-voice  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
Wiis  distinctly  recognized,  and  became  too  authoritative  for 
resistance,  would  he  assume  the  sacred  responsibilities  of 
the  gospel  ministry.  There  had  to  be  the  distinct  assur- 
ance of  a  divine  commission.  But  amid  all  his  hesitation 
and  plannings  he  was  being  equipped  of  God  as  a  wise  win- 
ner of  souls.  While  diligently  engaged  in  his  clerkship 
the  Spirit  was  preparing  him  for  a  higher  calling  and  no- 
bler destiny.  That  thirst  for  knowledge  which  compelled 
him  to  rise  early  before  business  hours  and  sit  up  till  the 
high  noon  of  night  studying  so  unwcariedly  was  used  by  Prov- 
idence in  developing  one  of  the  ablest  expounders  of  the 
gosfjel  knovt'u  in  the  history  of  our  Methodism.  Even  then, 
under  the  tuition  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  was  strengthening 
and  disciplining  mental  muscle  and  fiber  which  in  after 
years  made  him  a  master  of  great  thoughts  and  a  master- 
ful defender  of  the  truth.  He  enlisted  as  a  young  soldier, 
and  went  to  the  Mexican  war;  but  camp-life  and  force- 
march  failed  to  hush  the  voice  within  calling  him  to  a 

(27^ 


28  The  Editor-Bishop. 

higher  commission  and  a  nobler  warfare.  He  began  the 
study  of"  law,  and  pursued  his  course  with  characteristic 
diligence,  at  the  same  time  serving  at  night  as  book-keeper 
in  his  brother's  store;  but  the  conviction  remained  that  his 
miasion  was  to  practice  in  a  superior  court,  and  that  Black- 
stone,  Kent,  and  Green  leaf  were  to  be  laid  aside  for  Moses, 
Isaiah,  Paul,  and  other  canonical  writers.  About  this  time 
the  Mississippi  Annual  Conference  held  a  session  in  the 
Poydras  Street  Church,  and  young  Parker  was  an  interest- 
ed visitor.  During  that  Conference  Dr.  William  Winans, 
the  great  leader  and  logician  of  South-western  Methodism, 
preached  a  sermon  that  fastened  the  convictions  of  this  duty 
most  strongly  upon  him. 

One  office  of  the  presiding  elder  is  to  discern  spirits  and 
recruit  the  Lord's  ministry.  And  in  nothing  does  he  dem- 
onstrate eminent  fitness  for  his  office  more  clearly  than  in 
discovering  and  presenting  to  Conference  promising  young 
men  with  gifts  and  graces.  Richard  Deering  was  such  a 
one.  His  unfailing  eye-  rested  upon  that  young  man,  and 
God  chose  him  to  be  the  Elijah  to  clothe  another  Elisha 
Avith  the  mantle  of  the  prophetic  office.  But  the  full  his- 
tory, detailing  conflicting  emotions  and  yet  growing  con- 
victions, is  given  from  the  Bishop's  own  pen : 

"  During  the  month  of  March,  1849,  I  preached  my  first 
sermon  in  the  little  Methodist  Church  at  Algiers,  called 
Good  Hope  Chapel.  At  this  time  I  was  studying  law  in 
the  office  of  T.  K.  Durant  and  Charles  Horner,  and  had 
not  made  up  my  mind  to  devote  myself  exclusively  to  the 
ministry.  Rev.  R.  Deering  was  presiding  elder  of  the  New 
Orleans  District,  and  through  his  persuasion,  greatly  aided 
by  ray  own  convictions,  I  was  induced  to  try  a  single  ap- 
pointment. There  were  not  more  than  fifty  or  sixty  persons 
present,  and  my  effort  was  better  to  my  own  mind  than  I 
expected.     My  hearers  seemed  well  pleased,  and  the  lead- 


Call  to  tiik  Ministuy.  29 

ing  membei-s— having  no  regular  preacher — invited  me  to 
come  as  often  as  possible.  The  text  was  First  Timothy, 
first  chapter,  and  a  fragment  of  the  eleventh  verse:  'Ac- 
cording to  the  glorious  gosjiel  of  the  blessed  God.'  This 
text  was  suggested  to  my  mind  by  hearing  the  first  sernmii 
of  Rev.  William  R.  Nicholson  after  he  was  reoidained  in 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church.  The  subject  was  unsuit- 
able for  such  a  tyro  as  I  was,  but  it  pleased  my  fancy.  The 
skeleton  covered  the  half  of  a  letter-sheet  page.  My  position 
was:  God  is  the  source  of  all  glory;  ergo,  a  thing  is  glori- 
ous in  so  far  as  it  exhibits  the'  divine  attributes — (1)  the 
gospel  exhibits  God's  justice,  (2)  his  power,  (3)  his  love. 

"  I  continued  from  this  time  to  preach  regularly  at  Good 
Hope  Chapel  every  Sabbath  for  several  weeks,  pursuing  my 
law  studies  the  meanwhile,  and  debating  the  question  of 
my  call  to  the  ministry.  At  one  time  my  mind  was  so  fiir 
made  up  against  preaching  that  I  refused  to  apply  for  li- 
cense of  the  McGehee  Quarterly  Conference,  and  continued 
to  preach  for  two  months  or  thereabouts  with  only  verbal 
license  from  Brother  Deering.  At  last  my  mind  was  de- 
cided. I  determined  to  preach,  and  apply  myself  exclu- 
sively thereto.  I  received  license  of  the  Quarterly  Confer- 
ence May  15th,  1849,  left  the  law-office  forever,  removed 
to  Algiers,  and  took  charge  of  Good  Hope  Chapel.  My 
charge  consisted  of  one  appointment  of  about  thirty  mem- 
bers. These  were  nearly  all  mechanics — mostly  ship-car- 
penters and  their  wives  and  children.  They  were  poor  and 
pious.  The  average  of  spirituality  was  greater  than  any 
of  my  subsequent  charges.  From  May  until  December  of 
this  year  I  resided  in  Algiers,  applying  myself  to  study, 
pastoral  duties,  and  preaching;  and  I  can  truly  say  I  never 
spent  so  many  months  as  ])leasantly  and  happily.  I  con- 
tinued to  prosecute  the  study  of  Greek  and  Latin,  devoted 
a  good  part  of  every  morning  to  the  Scriptures,  and  before 


CO  TijE  EwTOit-Bisuop. 

the  end  of  the  year  read  Watson's  Institutes,  Wesley's  Ser- 
njons,  Dr.  Chalmers's  .Select  Works,  and  Fletcher's  Appeal, 
besides  some  historical,  philosophical,  and  light  reading. 
Much  time  was  then  spent — as  ever  since — in  preparing 
sermons.  I  should  be  almost  ashamed  to  confess  how  much 
time  these  indifferent  efforts  cost  me.  I  wrote  but  little, 
only  the  most  meager  skeletons — a  single  letter-j^age  was 
\isually  all.  But  the  arrangement  of  subjects,  the  careful 
premeditation  of  every  point,  and  the  study  of  the  whole 
theme  occupied  at  least  two  Avhole  days  of  each  week — so 
divided,  however,  as  usually  to  give  a  portion  to  each  day. 
My  labor  in  this  respect  was  most  arduous,  because  of  my 
ignorance — especially  of  theological  matters — and  the  want 
of  a  library  for  purposes  of  reference.  My  remembrance 
of  Good  Hope  Chapel  is  exceedingly  pleasant.  I  was  much 
attached  to  the  few  humble,  pious  souls  there,  and  I  left 
them  in  tears.  These  few  months  of  ministerial  life  were 
rich  in  profit  to  me.  They  were  to  my  mind  a  trial  and  a  self- 
probation  which  confirmed  me  in  the  course  I  had  chosen."- 
Thus  the  great  question  was  settled,  and  for  all  time. 
That  was  a  willing  sacrifice,  without  reservation  or  subse- 
quent regret.  He  kept  back  no  part  of  the  price,  but  for 
all  time  gave  himself  entirely  to  his  divine  and  diligent 
calling.     With  the  spirit  and  the  understanding  he  could 

and  did  sing: 

"To  taste  tills  love  our  only  joy, 
To  tell  this  love  our  best  employ." 

And  from  that  fresh,  hopeful  young  morning  of  life,  through 
a  varied  ministry  of  thirty-six  years,  to  the  gathering  twi- 
light of  the  evening,  when  he  "  ceased  at  once  to  work  and 
live,"  he  never  turned  aside  for  a  single  moment  to  lay  an 
offering  upon  any  other  altar.  There  Avere  no  other  gods 
before  him.  A  life  of  more  perfect  consecration  it  is  rarely 
the  privilege  of  any  one  to  know. 


mmm  iv. 

IIS  FIRST  eiRSUIT. 


A  YOUNG  preacher's  fii-st  Conference  is  a  time  of  visions 
and  revelations,  of  sights  and  insights,  of  appointments 
and  disappointments.  Every  face  is  a  study,  every  item  of 
business  an  observation,  and  every  discussion  a  new  disclos- 
ure of  the  economy  of  Methodism.  The  presiding  Bishop 
seems  so  apostolic,  the  older  preachers  so  heroic  and  grand, 
and  the  younger  ones  so  brave  aud  full  of  faith.  How  he 
covets  similar  gift*,  and  i)rays  to  be  worthy  of  such  compan- 
ionship! The  intimate  friendships  and  associated  trials  of 
subsequent  yeai*s  never  obscure  the  romance  and  halo  of 
the  first  Conference.  How  it  impressed  the  calm,  philosoph- 
ical young  novitiate  he  has  told  us  with  his  own  pen : 

"A  Methodist  Conference  is  not  like  any  other  deliberative 
body  in  the  world.  It  is  perfectly  unique.  A  Methodist 
preacher  is  a  decided  character,  and  an  assembly  made  up  of 
decided  characters  is  of  course  full  of  decided  characteristics. 
These  peculiarities  do  not  now,  as  of  yore,  consist — either  in 
whole  or  in  part— of  the  hat-brim  or  coat-tail.  Whatever  is 
distinctive  of  them  as  a  class  can  no  longer  be  located  in  their 
costume ;  but  it  is  rather  found  in  their  mental  and  devotional 
habits,  and  in  theirgeneral  fondness  for  bonhomie.  The  Con- 
ference floor  affords  (opportunity  for  the  display  of  all  these 
qualities.  For  a  specimen  of  mental  acumen  just  witness 
the  examination  of  a  single  chaiacter.  With  all  the  skill 
of  anatomists  they  dissect  their  subject  from  crown  to  sole; 
every  fact  is  brought  out,  and  every  feature  of  the  case  is 

cai) 


32  The  Editor-Uishop. 

examined  and  discussed  at  length.  This  ordeal,  in  some  in- 
stances, reminded  me  of  those  Indians  who  improved  their 
archery  by  making  targets  of  their  captives,  and  seeing  how 
nearly  they  could  throw  the  shaft  and  not  pierce  the  vic- 
tim." 

The  Louisiana  Conference  met  December  25, 1849,  in  the 
city  of  Shreveport,  then  and  now  the  largest  and  most  pros- 
perous town  in  the  northern  part  of  the  State.  Bishop  Ca- 
pers presided,  and  Philo  ]SI.  Goodwyn  was  Secretary.  The 
Bishop  was  in  the  zenith  of  his  power.  His  gentle  spirit, 
benignant  appearance,  and  eloquent  preaching  and  speaking 
profoundly  stirred  the  young  preacher  and  rebuked  every 
lingering  fear  of  failure.  The  trip  up  the  river  was  un- 
pleasant and  uneventful  to  all  save  one.  The  Bishop,  the 
New  Orleans  preachers,  and  a  number  of  other  members  of 
the  Conference  were  crowded  with  all  sorts  of  passengers,  to 
the  number  of  five  hundred,  on  a  small,  miserable  boat  called 
the  "St.  Anthony,"  and  were  nearly  a  week  in  reaching 
their  destination.  There  were  two  eager  ears  that  caught 
every  incident,  anecdote,  and  observation  of  the  venerable 
Bishop  and  other  preachers,  and  from  the  boat's  deck  two 
thoughtful  eves  studied  the  countrv  that  was  to  be  the  field 
of  his  ministerial  labor. 

Four  young  men  were  admitted  on  trial — Linus  Parker, 
John  Pauley,  Elisha  Waller,  and  Henderson  A.  Morse. 
Elisha  Waller  ceased  to  travel  after  one  year,  and  the 
name  of  Henderson  A.  Morse  soon  disappears  from  the  roll 
of  Conference;  but  the  memory  of  John  Pauley  and  his  he- 
roic labors  in  behalf  of  German  Methodism  in  New  Orleans 
is  an  abiding  and  an  inspiring  heritage.  From  a  "  rag- 
picker on  the  streets"  he  became  a  consecrated  apostle, 
worthy  of  the  land  of  Luther.  He  had  a  genius  for  self- 
denying  labor  that  knew  no  flagging,  and  a  lofty  Teutonic 
courage  that  feared  neither  the  threat  of  ruffian  nor  the 


His  First  Cir.cuiT.  33 

tread  of  wasting  pestilence.  His  triumphant  death  two 
years  ago  in  Houston,  Texas,  was  the  fitting  close  of  a  he- 
roic, apostolic  career.  He  went  up  from  the  field  of  battle 
tiie  veteran  victor  of  many  a  struggle. 

His  sword  was  in  his  liand, 
Still  wai-vi  with  recent  fight. 

Of  his  appointment  to  Lake  Providence,  Carroll  parish, 
Louisiana,  and  his  first  year  of  itinerant  service,  Linus 
Parker  will  speak  for  himself: 

"  My  solicitude  on  the  evening  the  appointments  were  read 
out  was  very  great.  I  rather  expected  to  be  retui-ned  to  Al- 
giers, and  this  was  the  wish  of  the  people  there,  but  it  was  not 
the  order  of  Providence,  and  it  proved  for  mc  far  better.  I 
had  prayed  over  the  matter  often  as  the  time  of  Conference  ap- 
proached, and  I  had,  at  the  time  of  my  appointment,  the  full 
conviction  that  God  had  ordained  it  aright.  Subsequently  I 
clearly  saw  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  it.  To  me  and  to 
others  it  was  an  eventful  evening  when  we  assembled  to  hear 
our  appointments.  These  times  have  always  been  affecting  to 
me.  There  is  in  them,  with  all  the  hopes,  fears,  anxieties, 
and  solicitudes  that  agitate  eveiy  breast,  such  an  exhibition 
of  the  spirit  of  sacrifice,  such  a  heroic,* missionary  spirit, 
and  such  a  strength  of  faith,  that  I  must  pronounce  the 
scene  presented  by  a  Methodist  Conference  receiving  ap- 
pointments from  the  lips  of  a  venerable  Bishop  amongst 
the  most  sublime  that  history  has  recorded  or  that  the  mind 
can  conceive  of  The  impression  made  upon  mc  on  hearing 
my  name  read  in  connection  with  Lake  Providence  was  one 
of  perfect  complacency.  I  knew  nothing  of  its  character, 
I  knao  not  where  it  was.  I  had  no  recollection  of  having 
heard  of  it  before;  indeed,  its  mention  was  a  positive  en- 
largement of  my  geograj^hical  knowledge.  How  much  I 
had  gained  or  lost,  therefore,  could  not  enter  my  mind  un- 
der these  circumstances.  I  found  out  its  position  on  the 
3 


34  The  Editok-Bisjiop. 

map  before  I  slept,  and  from  intercourse  with  the  preachers 
was  tolerably  acquainted  with  its  character  and  history  be- 
fore we  reached  New  Orleans  on  our  return. 

"  I  went  to  my  work  some  time  in  January,  and  found 
that  it  consisted  of  two  appointments — one  in  the  town  of 
Providence,  the  other  about  sixteen  miles  below  on  the  riv- 
er at  Pecan  Grove.  Providence  at  this  time  was  m.ade  up 
of  a  court-house,  one  hotel,  and  one  church — the  Methodist 
— quite  a  number  of  business  houses,  a  Masonic  hall,  and 
several  pleasant  residences.  The  place  was  a  village,  and 
small  for  such  -a  designation,  not  more  than  five  hundred 
inhabitants  in  all — white  and  colored,  children  and  adults. 
I  landed  ia  the  night  and  slept  at  the  hotel,  and  in  the 
morning  looked  for  the  first  time  upon  the  head-quarters  of 
my  first  real  labors  as  a  preacher.  I  did  not  know  an  in- 
dividual in  the  place,  but  Dr.  Speer,  my  presiding  elder, 
had  furnished  me  with  a  letter  to  a  prominent  member — 
Dr.  Larch^.  I  walked  from  the  hotel  (tavern?)  around  to 
the  Doctor's  before  breakfast,  introduced  myself  to  the  fam- 
ily, and  never  left  them  during  the  year.  It  was  my  pleas- 
ant and  welcome  home  as  long  as  I  remained  in  the  country. 

"  The  year  passed  away  pleasantly  and  quickly.  My  serv- 
ices were  more  appreciated  than  they  deserved  to  be.  I  was 
well  provided  for,  and  left  for  Conference  with  the  wish  of 
all  that  I  should  be  returned  for  another  year.  In  estimat- 
ing the  fruits  of  the  year's  labors  I  felt  humiliated  and  dis- 
satisfied. A  very  few  had  been  added  to  the  Church,  all 
of  whom,  I  think,  remain  faithful  to  their  profession.  The 
church  was  well  attended,  and  the  members  were  in  better 
spiritual  condition  than  when  I  commenced  my  labors.  This 
was  all  the  visible  result.  If  other  good  was  done,  eternity 
will  reveal  it." 

Lake  Providence  first  appears  on  the  Minutes  of  Confer- 
ence in  1828,  served  by  A.  Hewctt  as  a  supply,  and  through 


His  First  Circuit.  35 

all  the  intervening  years  has  enjoyed  the  ministrations  of 
faithful,  devoted  men.  But  the  frequent  and  destructive 
overflows  of  the  Mississippi  River  have  arrested  the  devel- 
opment of  the  country  and  the  progress  of  the  Church. 
More  than  once  our  pastors  have  had  to  escape  from  the 
floods  with  all  of  their  household  goods  on  a  speedily  con- 
structed and  insecure  raft.  Yet  the  little  vine,  long  plant- 
ed, still  lives  and  bears  fruit  unto  God. 


CHAPTER  V. 

TWO  YEARS  AT  SHREYEPORT. 


THE  Louisiana  Conference  met  December  25,  1850,  in 
the  Felicity  Street  Church,  New  Orleans.  Bishop  Ca- 
pers again  presided,  and  on  the  first  day  of  the  session 
formally  dedicated  the  handsome  new  church  in  which  the 
Conference  was  held  to  the  worship  of  Almighty  God.  His 
sermon  on  that  occasion  was  from  Matthew  xxiii.  17:  "For 
whether  is  greater,  the  gold,  or  the  temple  that  sanctifieth 
the  gold?"  and  never  did  that  silver  tongue  preach  a  gospel 
of  greater  sweetness  or  more  spiritual  power.  He  talked 
like  one  having  authority,  but  it  was  the  majesty  of  love. 
That  church  had  been  built  under  the  Avise  administration 
of  Dr.  J.  C.  Keener,  presiding  elder  cf  the  New  Orleans 
District,  and  by  the  active  labors  of  the  young  pastor,  Hol- 
land N.  McTyeire.  It  was  the  consolidation  of  two  or  more 
smaller  chapels,  and  has  been  for  all  the  years  a  strong 
center  of  evangelical  influence  in  the  city.  The  corner- 
stone of  that  church  has  a  history,  related  by  Bishop  Keener 
in  the  New  Orleans  Christian  Advocate  of  March  22,  1851, 
and  is  worth  preserving.  Its  reproduction  here  seems  ai>- 
propriate : 

"  There  is  a  corner-stone  under  the  Felicity  Street  Church 
out  of  which  the  devil  was  fairly  cheated.  It  has  been 
twice  dedicated — once  for  a  theater  and  once  for  a  church. 
It  lay  out  to  the  weather  for  a  long  time,  until  the  Lord 
had  need  for  it;  and  then,  Avith  prayer  and  thanksgiving, 
it  was  put  into  the  ground,  and  a  church  built  upon  it. 
(36) 


Two  Yeaes  in  Shreveport.  37 

It  is  not  often  that  Satan  is  allowed  to  furnish  a  car- 
riage for  the  Lord's  cannon.  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  he 
has  even  in  this  case.  The  history  of  this  elect  corner- 
stone is  about  this:  In  the  year  1837  it  was  resolved  to 
build  a  tlieater  at  the  corner  of  De  Lord  and  Foucher 
streets.  With  due  flourish  of  trumpets  a  great  crowd  of 
people  was  assembled,  a  stand  erected,  an  oration  deliv- 
ered to  suit  the  occasion,  and  the  corner-stone  was  laid. 
At  that  time  J.  N.  Maffitt  was  in  the  city  and  in  the 
zenith  of  his  fame,  and  on  the  afternoon  of  that  day 
walked  out  in  company  with  Mr,  Fontaine  in  the  direction 
of  the  celebration.  Mr,  Maffitt  saw  the  crowd,  asked  what 
it  meant,  and  soon  they  were  both  standing  listening  to  the 
orator.  Presently  a  messenger  came  from  one  on  the  stand 
to  Mr.  Maffitt,  inviting  him  to  come  up.  Mr.  Maffitt  de- 
clined. He  was  again  sent  for  very  pressingly,  when  they 
both  went  up,  and  were  seated  among  the  distinguished  of 
the  day.  When  the  orator  had  finished,  strange  to  say,  the 
master  of  ceremonies  asked  Mr,  Maffitt  if  he  would  *  con- 
clude'the  exercises  with  a  blessing.  Sure  enough,  Mr. 
Maffitt  arose,  stretched  out  his  hands,  and  fairly  went  at  it 
— half  oration  and  half  prayer — for  some  thirty  minutes, 
in  which  he  quite  eclipsed  the  orator.  Spoke  of  Isthmian, 
Olympic,  Pythian ;  of  the  design  and  influence  of  the  stage; 
and  prayed  that  He  who  is  greater  than  him  of  Ida  might 
mark  and  bring  his  own  »mysterious  and  wonder-working 
power  to  overrule  for  good  the  scene  of  the  day  and  the  in- 
tentions of  the  hour;  and,  after  having  prayed  with  great 
eloquence  and  fervor,  concluded.  Now  let  the  reader  mark : 
the  theater  was  never  built,  and  that  corner-stone  is  the 
identical  one  of  the  Felicity  Street  Church." 

At  this  Conference  the  young  preacher  of  only  one  year's 
experience  was  assigned  to  Shreveport,  the  most  important 
station  outside  the  city  of  New  Orleans.   It  was  quite  unusual 


38  The  EDiTOR-Bisnor. 

in  that  day  to  appoint  young,  unordained  men  to  the  full 
charge  of  a  pastorate,  and  never  to  a  prominent  station. 
But  so  conspicuous  were  his  gifts,  and  so  marked  his  suc- 
cess, that  no  fear  was  entertained  in  intrusting  the  Methodism 
of  the  growing  and  wealthy  city  of  Shreveport  to  the  hands 
of  Linus  Parker.  Nor  did  he  disappoint  expectation.  It 
was  there  he  developed  his  peculiar  methods  in  the  pulpit, 
and  established  his  reputation  as  an  able,  instructive  expos- 
itor of  the  word  of  God.  Many  of  the  sweetest  memories 
of  his  beautiful  life  and  helpful  ministry  linger  around  that 
place.  Old  friends  and  parishioners  yet  live  who  relate 
stories  of  his  pastoral  and  pulpit  experiences,  and  their 
children  will  keep  in  perennial  freshness  the  traditions  of 
those  happy  years.  The  influence  of  that  young  man  abides, 
a  heritage  of  radiant  virtues  and  an  inspiration  to  higher 
aims  and  deeds.  His  pulpit  became  a  throne  of  light,  whose 
ever-widening  circles  of  mellow  radiance  were  seen  and  felt 
even  beyond  the  confines  of  his  State.  He  now  took  rank 
as  a  popular  preacher  and  eminently  wise  pastor. 

At  this  Conference  a  measure  was  inaugurated  which, 
under  Providence,  largely  determined  the  sphere  and  fame 
of  Linus  Parker.  Unconsciously  to  himself  and  unsuspected 
by  all,  it  became  the  most  potential  factor  in  his  history  as 
a  Methodist  preacher.  Though  the  matter  had  been  long 
and  much  considered,  it  was  at  this  Conference  the  first 
authoritative  action  was  taken  which  established  the  New 
Orleans  Christian  Advocate.  A  publishing  committee  was 
appointed,  consisting  of  J.  C.  Keener,  "VV.  E.  Doty,  and  R. 
H.  Rivers,  and  the  first  number  of  the  paper  appeared  Feb- 
ruary 8,  1851,  with  H.  N.  McTyeire  as  editor.  A  similar 
committee  of  publication  was  appointed  by  the  Alabama 
Conference,  but,  on  account  of  some  diflference  of  opinion 
as  to  details  of  management,  the  Mississippi  Conference  did 
not  officially  become  a  patron  of  the  paper  until  several 


Two  Years  in  Shreveport.  39 


yeara  later.  In  this  enterprise  the  young  pastor  became 
greatly  interested,  and,  encouraged  by  the  quickly  discern- 
ing and  proverbially  discrimiuatiiig  editor,  began  a  corre- 
spondence that  soon  demonstrated  juiirnalistic  genius.  Over 
the  nom  de  plume  of  "  Woodsman  "  he  wrote  many  articles 
for  that  Advocate  in  1851-2 — then  almost  a  boy-preacher 
— that  displayed  the  graces  of  style  and  vigor  of  thought 
which  in  maturer  years  gave  him  Conuectional  fame.     We 

cannot  but  wonder  how  a  quiet,  unobtrusive  boy,  scarcely  be- 
yond his  majority,  and  with  few  educational  advantages, 
so  thoroughly  disciplined  and  richly  stored  his  mind,  and 
what  models  he  studied  to  give  his  pen  such  variety  and 
classic  elegance.  During  the  summer  of  1851  he  attended 
his  first  camp-meeting  not  far  from  Shreveport,  and  wrote 
a  charming  description  of  what  he  saw  and  heard.  The 
following  were  his  closing  reflections,  and  illustrate  the  pu- 
rity and  flexibility  of  his  style  at  that  early  age: 

"The  rural  pulpit  is  the  light  artillery  of  gospel  warfare. 
Readily  brought  into  action  and  admirably  adapting  itself 
to  circumstances,  it  tells  with  lasting  effect  upon  points 
which  could  not  be  reached  through  the  instrumentality  of 
church  and  chapel  ministrations.  Here  I  saw  the  peculiar 
adaptation  of  Christianity  to  man.  as  the  religion  of  the 
world.  It  finds  a  rostrum  and  an  altar  everywhere.  Christ 
taught  upon  a  mountain,  a  well-curb,  the  sea-shore,  and  the 
deck  of  a  fisher's  boat.  With  the  same  felicitous  independ- 
ence evangelists  of  every  age  have  occupied  the  field  of  the 
world,  and  have  sown  beside  all  waters." 

During  that  year  he  conducted  a  controversy  with  Dr. 
Clapp,  of  New  Orleans,  a  somewhat  celebrated  Unitarian 
preacher,  on  the  subject  of  future  punishment,  and  dem- 
onstrated undoubted  polemic  skill  and  logical  power.  But 
that  was  the  one  exception  in  his  entire  ministry.  His 
was  a  gospel  of  peace.    In  that  controversy  he  showed  large 


40  The  Editok-Bishop. 

acqn.aiutanco  with  ecclesiastical  science,  and  evidenced  tho 
breadth  and  grasp  of  real  statesmanship.  The  following'- 
on  the  most  vital  ])rinciple  in  our  Methodist  econom)%  dis- 
i)layed  a  maturity  ol"  jud^jment  far  beyond  his  years: 

"  The  Connectional  principle,  which  is  to  some  extent  re- 
tained in  most  of  our  sister  denominations,  and  eminently 
and  fully  illustrated  in  our  own,  is  really  tho  great  con- 
servator of  an  evangelical  ministry.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
see  how  this  principle  guards  against  errors  by  placing  mut- 
ual checks  upon  the  idiosyncrasies  of  different  minds,  and 
by  throwin;?;  wholesome  restraints  around  the  erratic  tenden- 
cies of  wayward  thinkers.  This  is  what  makes  Metliodism 
everywhere  the  same.  It  is  this  which  preserves  her  econ- 
omy intact  and  saves  her  doctrines  from  corruption.  Pure 
Con^re/^ationalism  is  without  these  restraints,  and  the  re- 
sults which  we  have  noticed  legitimately  and  necessarily 
follow.  It  is  the  embodiment  of  doctrinal  liberty  and  in- 
dependence, where  '  every  one  hath  a  psalm,  hath  a  doc- 
trine, hath  a  tongue,  hath  a  revelation,  hath  an  interpreta- 
tion.' What  wonder  that  in  such  an  element  of  liberty  a 
master-mind  should  sometimes  shake  off  the  thralldom  of 
creeds?  What  wonder  that  genius  should  shed  its  sanctity 
and  its  orthodoxy  and  indulge  in  the  wildest  heretical 
pranks?" 

The  next  Conference  was  held  at  Thibodeaux,  December, 
1851,  and  Bishop  Paine  presided.  From  Shreveport  to 
Thibodeaux  the  trip  was  made  almost  entirely  by  private 
conveyance,  which  gave  the  young  station  preacher  a  real 
itinerating  experience  such  as  he  had  never  before  enjoyed. 
The  fertile  valleys,  beautiful  streams,  broad  prairies,  and 
curious  people  along  the  way,  awakened  an  intense  interest. 
He  was  completely  fascinated  with  the  country.  The  New 
Yorker  became  a  zealous,  loyal  Louisianian,  and  remained 
CO  to  the  day  of  his  death.     Writing  of  that  trip,  he  Kays; 


Two  Years  in  Shreveport.  41 

"  Louisiana,  with  all  her  alligators  and  agues  and  swamps, 
is  surpassingly  rich  in  history  and  beautiful  in  geography. 
He  \Yho  has  merely  seen  her  from  the  deck  of  a  steam- 
boat can  have  no  correct  or  adequate  notion  of  what  she 
really  is.  To  such  an  observer  she  presents  a  monotonous, 
funereal  aspect,  tlirough  which  there  scarcely  gleams  a  sug- 
gestion of  the  wealth  and  intei-est  that  lie  hidden  behind 
her  cypress  boughs  and  palls  of  moss.  Louisiana,  of  all 
the  States,  claims  the  Father  of  Waters  as  her  sire;  and 
though  she  sometimes  feels  his  rage,  she  is  more  largely  en- 
riched by  his  munificence.  Right  j^roud  is  she  of  her  par- 
entage, and  right  royally  she  wears  in  pne  the  names  of 
cunsort  sovereigns.  The  sole  heir  of  the  ]\tississippi,  her 
soil  and  geology  are  the  hoarded  sums  of  more  than  a  thou- 
sand annuities.  It  was  due  to  such  a  land  that  the  proud- 
est and  the  bravest  chivalry  alone  should  achieve  its  dis- 
covery; and  hence  Providence  has  allowed  the  names  cf 
La  Salle  and  De  Soto  to  stand  foremost  and  almost  alone 
upon  the  pages  of  her  earliest  annals." 

At  that  Conference  ho  was  returned  to  Shreveport,  and 
labored  with  increasing  diligence  and  growing  popularity. 
Of  his  pastorate  there  he  only  made  this  modest  entry  in 
his  journal:  "  Two  yeara  they  were  of  great  enjoyment  and 
of  some  usefulness." 

It  is  a  striking  coincidence  that  three  members  of  the 
Conference  at  Tliibodcaux  afterward  sat  with  Bishop  Paine 
on  the  episcopal  bench — Holland  N.  McTyeire,  John  C. 
Keener,  and  Linus  Parker,  whom  ho  then  ordained  a  dea- 
con. Bishop  Paine  also  officiated  when  he  was  ordained 
an  elder,  and  when  he  was  consecrated  to  the  high  and  holy 
ofaco  of  a  Bishop  in  1882.  For  his  venerable  chief  pastor 
the  young  preacher  had  the  profoundest  reverence,  which 
ripened  into  increasing  personal  admiration;  Avhile  on  the 
other  h.and  the  Bishop  watched  with  pride  the  develop- 


42  The  Editor-Bisiiop. 

ment  of  his  sou  in  the  gospel,  and  rejoiced  at  his  election 
as  one  of  his  colleagues.  Of  the  intimate  relations  between 
the  three  Conference  co-laborers  and  episcopal  colleagues 
we  shall  learn  more  hereafter. 


CHAPTER  ¥L 

FIRST  YEAR  IN  NEW  ORLEANS. 


THE  seventh  session  of  the  Louisiana  Conference  was  held 
in  the  city  of  Baton  Rouge,  the  capital  of  the  State,  be- 
ginning January  5^,  1853.  Bishoj)  James  O.  Andrew  was 
present  and  presided  for  the  first  time  over  this  Conference. 
The  session  was  pleasant  and  profitable,  and  became  historic 
by  adopting  a  tentative  measure  in  the  interest  of  lay  dele- 
gation, the  first  movement  of  the  sort  in  Southern  Meth- 
odism. Having  completed  a  full  pastoral  term  of  two  years 
at  Shreveport,  Linus  Parker  was  appointed  to  Felicity 
Street  Church,  New  Orleans,  as  the  successor  of  H.  N.  Mc- 
Tyeirc.  His  former  residence  in  the  city  and  thorou^  ac- 
quaintance with  its  spiritual  condition,  together  with  a  calm, 
philosophical  appreciation  of  the  character  of  work  needed 
to  be  done,  gave  a  specially  providential  expression  to  his 
appointment.  Evangelical  religion  in  Louisiana,  and  espe- 
cially in  New  Orleans,  has  won  its  way  against  "a  sea  of 
difficulties,"  and  has  demanded  men  of  peculiar  gifts  and 
graces.  Yeai-s  ago  in  his  admirable  sketch  of  Richmond 
Nolley,  the  first  pioneer  preacher  to  die  in  that  field,  Bishop 
McTyeirc  said:  "The  gospel  plowshare  never  struck  into 
harder  soil  than  South-western  Louisiana."  The  mass  of  pop- 
ulation intensely  Roman  Catholic  and  speaking  a  foreign  lan- 
guage, the  country  subject  to  epidemics  of  yellow  fever  and 
overflows  of  the  Mississippi  River,  there  were  few  conditions 
favorable  to  evangelical  religion.   Methods  successfii  1  i  n  other 

(43) 


44  The  Editor-Bishop. 

— ) — —  ■ 

fields  were  fruitless  there.  Great  revivals  that  swept  over 
entire  communities  and  counted  converts  by  hundreds  were 
impossible  in  a  section  dominated  by  priestcraft,  ignorance, 
and  infidelity.  In  a  letter  to  the  Nashville  Christian  Advo- 
cate the  young  pastor  thus  discerned  the  difficulties  with  the 
ey.€  of  a  philosopher,  and  unintentionally  outlined  his  own 
pastoral  history: 

"  Owing  to  various  circumstances  the  aggressive  move- 
ments of  the  gospel  in  Louisiana  are  slow.  The  laborer  here 
must  have  long  patience;  casting  his  bread  upon  the  waters, 
the  faith  that  ventures  and  the  patience  that  waits  must  be 
his.  The  character  of  the  people,  their  employments,  wealth, 
descent,  and  sparseness  of  white  population,  conspire  to 
make  the  progress  of  the  gospel  slow.  The  country  cannot 
be  taken  by  storm.  Rather,  it  must  be  conquered  by  the 
labored  parallels  and  gradual  approaches  of  a  siege.  In 
the  older  States — in  your  own  Tennessee — your  revivals 
sweep  whole  communities;  you  have  the  denser  population, 
numerous  village  communities  for  centers  of  operations,  he- 
reditary Protestantism  and  nurtured  Methodism,  which  we 
have  not.  ...  In  communities  (of  which  there  are  more  in 
Louisiana  than  elsewhere)  where  Methodism  is  not  under- 
stood, and  where  there  is  little  or  no  sympathy  for  the 
preacher,  the  preacher  becomes  the  sole  exponent  of  the 
Church,  and  the  planting  of  the  gospel  depends  greatly 
upon  the  personal  fitness  of  the  man.  The  harmlessness  of 
the  dove  must  be  blended  with  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent ; 
intelligence  and  education  must  be  combined  with  the  pur- 
est flame  of  piety.  There  are  two  sides  to  instrumentalities 
— the  human  and  the  divine.  The  fishermen  of  Galilee 
were  not  specially  chosen  for  the  Gentiles.  For  this  work 
regard  was  had  for  human  fitness,  and  Saul  of  Tarsus  was  set 
apart  to  expound  the  gospel  to  the  Greek  and  the  Roman." 

And  to  New  Orleans  those  words  had  emphatic  applica- 


First  Year  in  New  Orleans.  4o 


tion.  Christian  evangelism  there,  from  the  days  of  Elisha 
Bowman  to  the  present,  has  contended  against  peculiar  and 
stubborn  evils.  Nowhere  else  in  the  United  States  have  em- 
barrassments been  so  great  and  opposition  so  intense.  With 
Romanism  comprising  one-half  of  the  entire  population, 
wealthy,  well  organized,  and  enjoying  the  powerful  protec- 
tion and  liberal  support  of  the  French  and  Spanish  govern- 
ments until  Louisiana  was  ceded  to  the  United  States,  the 
growth  of  Protestantism  has  been  a  ceaseless  struggle.  As  ■ 
far  back  as  the  year  of  Linus  Parker's  first  appointment  to 
New  Orleans,  there  were  in  the  city  and  vicinity  not  less  than 
twenty-five  Roman  Catholic  churches,  fifty  or  more  priests, 
four  orphan  asylums,  two  convents,  and  five  free  schools. 
There  were  also  an  ecclesiastical  seminary  and  numerous 
institutions  and  organizations  connected  with  their  Church- 
machinery — monks,  nuns,  Sisters  of  Charity,  Brothers  of 
the  Christian  Schools,  two  weekly  papers — one  in  French 
and  one  in  English — and  multitudinous  buildings  of  varied 
architecture  and  for  multifarious  purposes.  Studying  the 
difficult  problem  and  estimating  the  immense  outlay  of  men, 
time,  talent,  patience,  courage,  and  prayer  to  achieve  even 
the  meager  results  of  Methodism  at  that  time,  the  voung 
Felicity  pastor  said : 

"The  history  of  the  planting  of  these  cnurches  in  an 
early  day  and  a  dark  day,  the  persecutions  which  they  sus- 
tained, and  the  sufferings  endured,  may  never  be  written ; 
but  should  it  be,  there  will  be  chapters  of  heroism,  Chris- 
tian faithfulness,  and  devotion  to  God  such  as  the  annals 
of  Christianity  might  covet  to  enroll  upon  its  pages." 

The  first  adventurous  Methodist  preacher  to  visit  New 
Orleans  for  the  purpose  of  planting  our  standard  there  was 
Elisha  "NV.  Bowman.  He  came  by  appointment  of  Bishop 
Asbury,  and  reached  the  little  city  of  less  than  fifteen  thou- 
sand souls  about  the  1st  of  December,  1 805.     He  found  the 


4f)  The  Editor-Bishop. 

place  "as  filthy  as  a  hog-sty,"  but  few  American  people,  no 
house  of  entertainment  except  at  an  expense  of  two  dollars 
a  day,  with  his  money  "pretty  well  spent,"  and  no  place  in 
which  to  preach.  Failing  elsewhere,  he  called  on  the  Gov- 
ernor, told  his  business,  and  secured  from  him  the  promise 
of  protection  and  the  use  of  the  capitol  for  Sunday  service. 
But  when  Sunday  came  he  found  the  door  locked,  and  his 
only  chance  of  preaching  Avas  to  "  a  few  drunken  sailors 
and  Frenchmen"  in  front  6f  the  building.  Though  as- 
sured of  more  hospitable  treatment  the  next  Sabbath  by 
both  the  Governor  and  Mayor,  he  again  found  the  house 
securely  fastened,  and  preached  "  to  ten  or  twelve  persons 
in  the  open  air."  As  the  lonely  missionary  passed  along 
the  street  in  the  evening  he  heard  loud  curses  against  him- 
self and  the  Methodists,  and  was  told  by  one  of  the  officers 
that  the  Methodists  were  a  dangerous  people  and  ought  to 
be  discouraged.  But,  nothing  daunted,  he  preached  the 
next  Sunday  "to  a  few  straggling  people  in  the  open  street." 
AVithout  a  friend  to  advise  him,  without  rao*ey  to  rent  a 
preaching-place,  and  unable  to  sell  bis  faithfiil  horse  for  the 
small  sum  of  forty  dollars,  his  situation  was  becoming  des- 
perate. Learner  Blackman,  the  nearest  Methodist  preach- 
er, was  three  hundred  miles  away ;  to  remain  was  impossi- 
ble, and  to  leave  his  appointment,  "  without  Mr.  Asbury's 
direction,  was  like  death."  So  he  concluded  to  make  his 
way  into  the  Opelousas  country,  and  said:  ''I  accordingly, 
on  the  17th  of  December,  shook  off  the  dirt  from  my  feet 
against  this  ungodly  city  of  Orleans,  and  resolved  to  try  the 
watery  waste  and  pathless  desert." 

Those  three  weeks  of  reconnoissance  and  the  three  open- 
air  sermons  of  Elisha  Bowman  were  the  first  and  only  serv- 
ices of  a  Methodist  preacher  in  New  Orleans  until  1812, 
when  Miles  Harper  came  as  a  missionary.  Though  a  man 
full  of  zeal,  of  great  unction  and  power,  and  at  times  "sur- 


First  Year  in  New  Orleans.  47 


passingly  eloquent,"  his  year's  labors  were  without  visible 
results.  The  next  year  Lewis  Hobbs,  the  "  weeping  proph- 
et," a  most  devout  but  delicate  young  man,  spent  his  last 
strength  toiling  and  praying,  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  gather 
a  small  congregation.  He,  became  "  deeply  consumptive," 
and  in  a  lingering,  dying  condition  traveled  a  thousand 
miles  to  his  home  in  Georgia,  to  finish  his  course. 

The  first  provisional  session  of  the  Mississippi  Conference 
met  November  1, 1813,  at  the  residence  of  Rev.  Newit  Vick, 
Avith  Samuel  Sellers  as  President,  and  William  Winans,  Sec- 
retary. William  Winans,  who  afterward  became  the  great- 
est pulpit  orator  and  most  distinguished  ecclesiastical  leader 
in  the  South-west,  was  appointed  to  succeed  the  sainted 
Lewis  Hobbs.  Of  the  thirty-nine  dollars  and  eighteen  cents 
in  the  Conference  treasury,  thirty  dollars  "was  voted  to 
Brother  Winans  to  enable  him  to  fill  the  Orleans  Station." 
^rhe  missionary  found  shelter  in  the  hospitable  home  of  Ja- 
cob Knobb,  the  ground-floor  of  whose  house  he  used  for  a 
school-room ^nd  chapel.  That  house,  a  two-story  brick,  as 
we  learn  from  the  historian  of  South-western 'Methodism — 
the  Rev.  John  G.  Jones — was  located  on  Bienville,  between 
Chartres  and  R,oyal  streets.  Persons  yet  living  remember 
to  have  seen  the  old,  faded  sign  over  the  door — "  William 
Wmans,  Teacher."  Here  he  taught  school  for  his  daily 
bread  and  preached  for  the  glory  of  God.  But  so  unimpres- 
sible  were  the  mixed  multitudes,  and  so  intense  the  war  ex- 
citement, that  the  zealous  missionary  was  forced  to  go  up  to 
Conference  with  a  very  meager  report.  He  had  spied  out 
the  laud,  however,  and  ever  thereafter  was  zealously  devot- 
ed to  the  interests  of  New  Orleans  Methodism.  As  presiding 
elder  of  the  district,  as  agent,  with  the  eloquent  John  Newland 
MaflStt,  "to  raise  funds  for  the  Methodist  Church  in  New 
Orleans,"  and  in  every  possible  way,  he  contributed  to  the  firm 
establishment  of  our  cause  in  that  "  Paris  of  America." 


48  The  Editor-Bishop. 


For  five  years  after  the  retirement  of  William  Winaiis 
no  Methodist  preaching  was  heard  in  the  city,  but  in  1819 
New  Orleans  again  appeared  in  the  minutes,  with  Mark 
Moore  as  missionary.  With  the  coming  and  ministry  of 
that  brave  evangelist  two  interesting  historic  facts  are  con- 
nected. The  first  Bishop  McTyeire  thus  relates  in  hfs  "  H'^ 
tory  of  Methodism : "  "An  effort  to  assist  the  Rev.  Mark 
Moore  in  establishing  the  Church  in  New  Orleans  suggest- 
ed to  Joshua  Soulc,  Nathan  Bangs,  Laban  Clark,  and  Free- 
born Garretson  the  grand  movement  of  the  period — the 
formation  of  a  missionary  society."  The  other  was  secur- 
ing the  first  local  habitation  hr  Methodism  in  the  city,  and 
is  related  by  Bishop  Keener  in  his  eloquent  memorial-ser- 
mon in  honor  of  Judge  Edward  McGehee: 

"Judge  McGehee's  connection  with  Methodism  in  New 
Orleans  began  in  1819.  In  that  year  Dr.  Winans,  Mark 
Moore,  and  Judge  McGehee  came  to  this  city,  and  a  preach- 
ing-place was  secured  in  the  loft  of  a  flour-inspector's  office 
at  the  corner  of  Poydras  and  Carondelet  streets.  The 
Judge  gave  the  bagging  which  was  used  to  cover  the  raft- 
ers and  to  form  the  sides  of  the  room.  Those  were  the  days 
of  Sisters  Skintier,  Cauu,  and  Coleman,  and  Mark  Moore 
was  the  preacher  in  charge.  Out  of  this  beginning  grew 
the  church,  a  frame  building  on  Gravier  street,  between 
Baronne  and  Carondelet.  Afterward,  in  1838,  a  very  im- 
posing brick  church  was  built  on  the  original  site  of  the 
loft  at  the  corner  of  Poydras  and  Carondelet." 

Another  fiict  that  year  distinguished  the  annals  of  New 
Orleans  Methodism — the  first  visit  of  a  Methodist  Bishop. 
In  the  month  of  ]\Iarch  Bishop  McKendree  reached  the 
city,  and  on  Sabbath  preached  to  "a  large  and  attentive 
congregation."  It  must  have  been  a  great  day  with  the  lit- 
tle flock.  "  Two  young  men  joined  the  society,  a  lady  of 
about  thirty  years  of  age  was  baptized,  and  the  sacrament 


First  Year  in  New  Orleans.  49 

administered  to  about  one  hundred  and  thirty  persons." 
Mark  Moore  was  abundant  in  labors,  and  the  fruits  appeared. 
He  had  large  congregations  and  "  about  sixty  members  in 
society." 

IjoJSgO  John  Menifee  succeeded  the  indefatigable  Mark 
Moore,  ^ut  the  society  did  not  prosper,  and  the  next  year 
was  quite  disorganized  by  a  dreadful  epidemic  of  yellow 
fever.  Among  other  victims  was  John  Menifee  himself, 
the  first  of  a  long  list  of  martyrs  who  have  fallen  by  that 
scourge  while  preaching  the  gospel  in  New  Orleans.  In 
1824  Daniel  Hall  was  appointed  to  reoccupy  the  abandoned 
field  and  shepherd  the  scattered  flock.  Of  his  work  little 
is  knoN^Ti.  But  the  next  year  marked  a  new  era  and  the 
real  beginning  of  Methodism  in  that  city.  Benjamin  M. 
Drake  was  then  in  the  vigor  of  a  splendid  young  manhood 
and  the  freshn^s  of  a  zeal  that  never  flagged  to  the  end  of 
a  laborious  life.  He  united  the  little  band,  built  the  first 
Methodist  church  in  New  Orleans,  and  gave  to  Methodism 
there  its  first  permanent  organization.  His  labors  were 
phenomenal.  He  preached  to  the  spirits  in  prison,  had 
stated  appointments  for  the  garrison  of  United  States  troops, 
visited  the  hospitals,  held  service  with  the  seamen,  sold  Bi- 
bles  and  Testaments,  distributed  tracts,  and  ministered  to 
the  sick  and  dying.  He  was  returned  the  next  year,  and 
again  in  1832.  In  the  completeness  of  his  consecration  and 
the  moral  grandeur  of  his  life  there  is  no  more  conspicuous 
figure  in  the  Pantheon  of  our  illustrious  dead  than  Dr.  Ben- 
jamin M.  Drake. 

Under  the  pastoral  care  successively  of  Peyton  S.  Greaves, 
William  M.  Curtiss,  and  William  V.  Douglass,  the  little 
company  so  throve  and  multiplied  that  in  1832  New  Or- 
leans appeared  as  the  head  of  a  district,  with  Barnabas  Pip- 
kin as  presiding  elder  and  O.  L.  Nash  as  preacher  in  charge. 
In  1835  a  special  mission  to  the  people  of  color  was  inau- 
4 


50  The  EditouBisuop. 


gurated,  and  to  this  work  the  eloquent,  eccentric  S.  L.  L. 
Scott  was  appointed.  This  became  one  of  the  special  and 
prominent  features  of  Methodism  in  the  city,  and  it  pros- 
pered greatly.  The  sixty-three  colored  members  in  1826 
increased  to  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty-four  in 
1860.  For  their  careful  spiritual  instruction  all  the  preach- 
ers zealously  labored,  and  none  more  joyously  than  Bishops 
McTyeire,  Keener,  and  Parker.  In  that  year  the  name  of 
\^  illiam  M.  Curtiss  appears  as  "  Book  Agent,"  with  John 
C.  Burruss  in  charge  of  the  station.  Of  this  gifted  man — 
the  Chrysostom  of  early  Methodism  in  the  South-west — we 
£hall  see  moi'e  hereafter. 

About  this  time  a  handsome,  brilliant  young  man  of  busi- 
ness was  attracted  by  the  joyous  services  of  the  ^Methodists ; 
was  converted  and  became  one  of  their  number.  He  at 
once  engaged  zealously  in  all  good  works — holding  prayer- 
meetings,  distributing  tracts,  and  visiting  the  hospitals. 
Obeying  the  call  to  preach,  he  desired  to  go  North  and  com- 
plete his  education;  but  so  popular  were  his  ministrations 
and  so  imperative  the  demands  for  his  services  that  he  en- 
tered the  itinerancy  at  once,  and  has  been  known  to  con- 
tinental fame  as  the  eloquent  Dr.  Charles  K.  Marshall. 

Another  name  intimately  and  honorably  connected  with 
the  Church  in  New  Orleans  was  that  of  William  Hamilton 
Watkins,  who  came  first  in  1838  as  the  colleague  of  the 
ardent,  strong-willed  Lewell  Campbell.  He  remained  in 
the  city  nearly  ten  consecutive  years,  and  left  his  impress 
deeply  graven  in  the  history  of  that  time.  It  was  by  his 
efforts  mainly  that  the  Moreau  Street  Church  was  built,  and 
he  became  its  first  pastor.  AVith  the  elegant  manners  of  a 
Chesterfield  and  the  gentle  spirit  of  John  Fletcher,  he  was  * 
a  model  gentleman,  and  an  affable,  able,  loyal  ^Methodist 
itinerant  preacher.  When  the  Louisiana  Conference  was 
organized  in  1847,  he  returned  to  his  native  Mississippi  and 


First  Year  ix  New  Orleaxs.  51 

remained  in  effective  service  until  his  peaceful  death  in  the 
capital  of  the  State  on  the  5th  of  February,  1881. 

At  the  Conference  which  met  in  Vicksburg  in  December, 
1840,  Elijah  Steele  was  appointed  to  the  Poydras  Street 
Church,  New  Orleans,  with  W.  H.  Watkins  and  F.  Dieftin- 
werth  as  his  colleagues  in  the  city.  It  has  been  the  privi- 
lege of  very  few  on  earth  to  make  such  a  history  as  this 
young  man.  He  was  the  Summerfield  of  the  South-west. 
Though  not  so  widely  known  as  that  prodigy  of  pulpit  elo- 
quence, and  with  fewer  literary  advantages,  he  had  a  mind 
of  equal  grasp,  an  imagination  of  like  imperial  sweep,  a 
voice  as  richly  musical,  and  a  piety  as  divinely  beautiful. 
Dr.  Winans  said  that  the  gifted  Summerfield  was  the  only 
person  he  ever  met  "  who  could  compare  with  Elijah  Steele 
in  richness  of  thought,  extensiveness  of  range,  clearness  of 
presentation,  dignity  of  manner,  and  effectiveness."  The 
year  before  his  appointment  to  Poydras  Street  he  visited 
the  city  by  invitation  to  preach  a  special  sermon.  Of  that 
effort  his  biographer,  Dr.  Drake,  said :  "It  is  doubtful 
whether  a  single  sermon  has  ever  made  so  strong  an  impres- 
sion in  that  city."  One  of  tlie  city  papers  pronounced  him 
the  equal  of  the  blind  preacher  described  by  the  eloquent 
William  "Wirt.  This  led  to  his  appointment  the  following 
year — the  scene  of  his  closing  labors  and  place  of  his  mar- 
tyrdom and  translation.  The  young  preacher  was  soon  an 
extraordinary  sensation.  He  attracted  crowds  to  every 
service — not  by  clerical  buffoonery  or  dramatic  sacrilege, 
but  by  the  fervor  and  splendor  of  his  sacred  eloquence. 
But  alas!  the  gracious  work  bo  auspiciously  begun  must 
soon  come  to  an  end.  With  summer  came  a  fatal  epidemic 
of  yellow  fever.  Hundreds  and  thousands  fled  at  the  first 
note  of  alarm,  but  the  brave  young  pastor  remained.  When 
urged  to  leave  by  anxious  friends  he  replied :  "  I  feel  not 
the  least  sensation  of  fear;  if  I  live,  it  will  be  to  glorify 


52  The  Editor-Bishop. 

God ;  if  I  die,  it  will  be  in  glorious  triumph."  From  house 
to  house,  day  and  night,  he  moved  like  an  angel  of  mercy 
amid  the  sick  and  dying,  carrying  to  all  the  glad  tidings  of 
great  joy.  On  the  6th  of  September,  while  conducting  a 
prayer-meeting,  he  was  seized  with  the  fatal  fever,  and  was 
borne  to  the  house  of  his  friend  James  Ross,  where  he  died 
after  four  days  of  suifering,  a  willing  sacrifice  to  duty.  To 
his  mother  and  special  friends  in  the  ministry  he  sent  this 
confident  message :  "  Tell  them  I  am  gone  straight  to  heav- 
en." His  last  articulate  words  were,  "  I  am  safe."  The 
annals  of  heroism  have  preserved  no  incidents  more  thrill- 
ing, no  courage  more  daring,  and  no  sacrifices  more  un- 
sparing than  an  epidemic  of  yellow  fever  in  the  South. 
And  among  the  earliest  and  bravest  of  its  martyrs  was  the 
amiable,  eloquent,  gifted  Elijah  Steele.  A  chapel  was 
erected  a  few  years  later  hMt  the  present  Felicity  Street 
Church  which  bore  his  name  and  perpetuated  his  seraphic 
ministry. 

The  Poydras  Street  Church — an  imposing  structure,  the 
corner-stone  of  which  was  laid  by  Rev.  John  NeAvland 
Maffitt,  and  the  dedicatory  sermon  preached  by  Bishop  An- 
drew— was  begun  in  1835,  and  was  built  mainly  by  the 
munificence  of  Judge  Edward  McGehee.  When  com- 
pleted it  remained  indebted  to  him  over  and  above  his 
gifts  some  forty  thousand  dollars.  Of  this  amount  he  would 
only  receive  two  thousand  dollars,  and  used  it  in  building 
a  Methodist  Church  in  Wilkinson  county,  Mississippi.  The 
present  spacious  temple  on  Carondelet  street — the  successor 
of  old  Poydras — is  also  a  monument  of  his  princely  liber- 
ality, and  in  his  honor  it  was  properly  and  imposingly  ded- 
icated as  the  McGehee  Church.  He  was  the  father  of 
church  extension  in  New  Orleans — the  Sir  Frances  Lycett 
of  the  South-west.  Of  his  other  royal  doings — the  estab- 
lishment of  Woodville  Female  Seminary,  giving  seventy 


First  Year  in  New  Orleans.  53 


thousand  dollars  or  more  to  Centenary  College,  support- 
ing his  local  church,  educating  poor  young  men,  etc.— are 
they  not  written  in  the  chronicles  of  the  skies?  Noble, 
kingly  soul!  his  name  will  ever  be  conspicuous  in  the  an- 
nals of  American  Methodism,  and  in  the  firmament  of  God 
will  shine  as  the  stars  forever  and  ever. 

In  1842  the  Rev.  William  R.  Nicholson,  a  cultured, 
scholarly  young  man,  and  eloquent  withal,  was  stationed 
in  New  Orleans.  He  was  quite  popular,  and  his  ministry 
was  attended  with  marked  success;  but  he  became  impatient 
Avith  the  inexorable  law  of  our  itinerancy,  and  in  1848 
connected  himself  with  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church. 
When  the  Reformed  Episcopal  Church  was  organized  in 
1871  he  became  an  early  and  ardent  adherent,  and  was 
elected  one  of  its  Bishops. 

In  that  year  another  mov^ent  was  projected  which  has 
been  one  of  the  chief  glories  of  New  Orleans  Methodism — 
the  establishment  of  its  first  German  mission.  The  Rev. 
Charles  Bremer  was  tho  first  missionary,  who  emigrated  to 
the  United  States  in  1837.  He  was  awakened  in  the  old 
country,  but  came  to  America  for  a  knowledge  of  full  sal- 
vation by  faith  only.  He  had  fine  talents  and  a  consum- 
ing zeal.  Entering  the  Conference  in  1843  or  1844,  he  de- 
voted his  toilsome  life  to  mission  work  in  the  city,  and  had 
many  seals  to  his  ministry.  In  the  year  1845  he  received 
an  assistant  in  Rev.  Nicholas  Brekwedel,  when  work  was 
begun  in  Carrollton,  where  Judge  Preston  donated  a  loL  to 
the  mission,  and  built  a  small  chapel  upon  it.  The  work 
went  on  prosperously  until  at  length  five  excellent  congre- 
gations had  been,  organized  and  substantial  brick  churches 
were  built  on  Dryade»,  Soroparou,  and  Craps  streets. 
Though  somewhat  disintegrated  by  the  war  between  the 
States,  and  the  establishment  of  German  missions  in  the 
city  by  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  it  is  yet  among 


54  The  Editor-Bishop. 

the  most  important  miesionary  achievements  of  the  Church, 
For  some  years  the  work  in  the  city  has  been  under  the  im- 
mediate superintendence  of  Kev.  Dr.  J.  B.  A.  Ahreus,  who 
is  also  the  accomplished  editor  of  our  German  books  and 
periodicals.  In  these  missions  Bbhop  Parker  was  much 
interested,  and  his  ministrations  to  them  were  greatly  en- 
joyed. A  few  days  after  his  death  Dr.  Ahrens  published  a 
beautiful  tribute,  entitled  "A  Floweret  on  Bishop  Parker's 
Grave,"  in  which  he  said : 

"  I  have  often  admired  the  richness  of  the  departed  Bish- 
op's vocabulary  and  the  expressive  sweetness  of  his  style,  so 
entirely  devoid  of  pedantic  ornateness.  This  very  much  en- 
deared him  to  our  German  congregations.  Though  many 
were  not  very  familiar  with  the  English  tongue,  they  could 
nevertheless  understand  him.  Invariably  were  exegesis  and 
application  instructive  and  edifying.  No  wonder  that  on 
the  Sabbath  succeeding  his  death  our  three  German  church- 
es in  New  Orleans  were  draped  in  mourning,  and  that  me- 
morial-services were  held  in  each.  When  three  years  ago 
he  was  elevated  to  the  episcopacy,  our  German  sisters  pre- 
sented him  a  valuable  cane  and  umbrella.  Acknowledging 
the  receipt,  he  addressed  an  exquisitely  affectionate  epistle 
to  IVIrs.  Ahrens.  Among  other  things,  he  said  that  the 
cane  pointed  him  to  the  divine  support  which  David  en- 
joyed, declaring,  *  Thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they  comfort  me.' 
The  umbrella  eloquently  referred  him  to  the  'secret  place 
of  the  Most  High.'  'Pray  for  me,'  he  concluded,  'that  I 
may  abide  under  the  shadow  of  his  wing  as  long  as  life  en- 
dures.'" 

Of  other  laborers,  who  braved  the  perils  of  yellow  fever 
epidemics  and  wrought  nobly  in  that  difficult  field,  we  can- 
not speak  in  detail.  Time  would  fail  us  to  tell  of  Deering, 
Nixon,  Langard,  "Whitall,  Cross,  Brown,  Trippett,  Thweatt, 
and  other  honored  names  not  a  fcAv.     But  in  1848  a  then 


First  Year  ix  New  Orleans.  55 

comparatively  young  man,  whose  acknowledged  leadership 
was  destined  to  give  new  and  nobler  direction  to  our  cause 
in  the  great  South-west,  was  transferred  to  K^ew  Orleans. 
He  became  the  warmly  attached  and  life-long  friend  of 
Linus  Parker,  and  had  much  to  do  in  shaping  his  success- 
ful career.  He  yet  lives  as  one  of  our  honored  chief  pas- 
tors, and  unites  in  himself  an  apostolic  zeal  worthy  of  Fran- 
cis Asbury  and  "  a  genius  for  government  not  inferior  to 
Richelieu."  Of  his  work  in  the  city,  Bishop  McTyeire  thus 
speaks  in  his  "History  of  Methodism:" 

"  The  minister  is  yet  living — and  we  trust  the  day  is  far 
off  when  his  name  can  be  more  freely  spoken  to — whose  pul- 
pit and  pastoral  fidelity  and  administrative  power  crowned 
the  work  which  others  began.  The  systematic  and  com- 
prehensive plans  laid  and  carried  out  by  Rev.  John  Chris- 
tian Keener,  D.D.  (now  Bishop),  date  the  epoch  of  the 
present  New  Orleans  Methodism.  He  was  appointed  by 
Bishop  Paine  pastor  of  Poydras  Street  Church  in  1848,  met 
the  yellow  fever  and  outlived  it  in  1849,  and  has  since  re- 
sided in  the  city  a  witness  and,  under  God,  the  chief  di- 
rector of  the  prosperous  condition  of  its  Methodism." 

Of  the  heroic  men  and  devout  women  net  a  few  who 
composed  the  membership  of  the  church — who  "  tarried  by 
the  stuff"  and  nobly  sustained  the  reproach  of  "  the  people 
called  Methodists  " — we  cannot  speak  at  length.  Conspic- 
uous among  those  "  who  stood  firmly  by  the  feeble  and  de- 
spised cause  when  friends  were  few  "  was  Madame  Theresa 
Canu,  who  came  to  New  Orleans  as  early  as  1816.  She  was 
of  French  birth,  and  from  St.  Domingo,  fleeing  from  the  hor- 
rors of  a  bloody  insurrection.  She  landed  at  Wilmington, 
North  Carolina,  where  she  became  acquainted  with  the 
Methodists,  and  where,  at  a  camp-meeting,  she  was  soundly 
converted.  Her  home  was  ever  open  to  the  brave  mission- 
aries, and  her  presence  "  in  the  little  conventicles  where 


56  The  Editor-Bishop. 

Methodism  took  shelter  for  many  humble  years"  was  an  un- 
failing inspiration  to  the  toiling  itinerant.  Her  little  house, 
■Nvith  its  small,  round  columns  and  one  dormer  window,  still 
stands  on  the  north  side  of  De  Lord  street,  near  the  Lee  mon- 
ument. And  around  that  stateljt  column,  surmounted  by  a 
bronze  statue  of  the  great  military  chieftain,  possibly  more 
tragic,  but  less  sacred,  memories  gather  than  about  the  hum- 
ble little  home  of  the  Methodist  saint  whose  joy  was  to 
shelter  the  prophets  of  the  Lord,  and  whose  life  Mas  an  un- 
ceasing prayer  for  the  bloodless  triumphs  of  the  Redeem- 
er's kingdom.  But  all  the  labors  of  Keene,  the  beloved 
disciple ;  of  William  H.  Foster,  the  princely  gentleman  and 
model  Sunday-school  superintendent;  of  R.  W.  Rayne, 
whose  large  liberality  almost  alone  erected  the  handsome 
church  on  St.  Charles  Avenue;  of  J.  D.  Parker,  the  tire- 
less toiler  for  the  Master  and  Israelite  in  whom  is  no  guile; 
of  Dr.  Moss,  the  St.  Luke  of  Ncav  Orleans  Methodism ; 
and  of  Price,  Dameron,  Palmer,  Tully,  Sutton,  Howell, 
Robertson,  Werlein,  and  others — will  they  not  appear  in 
"thatdavr" 


gHAPTER  VIL 

FIRST  YEAR  IN  NEW  ORLEANS  (gONTINDED), 


THE  young  pastor  of  Felicity  entered  upon  his  duties  at 
once,  and  preached  his  first  sermon  from  the  very  ap- 
propriate text  in  1  Cor.  ii.  2:  "For  I  determined  not  to 
know  any  thing  among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ  and  him  cru- 
cified." And  never  was  the  apostle's  declaration  and  pur- 
pose more  sincerely  and  faithfully  illustrated  by  any  sou  in 
the  gospel.  No  other  ambition  distracted  his  thoughts  or 
divided  his  energies.  He  was  a  man  of  one  work.  The 
zeal  of  that  house  consumed  him.  His  pastoral  and  pulpit 
labors  were  according  to  a  definite,  well-matured  plan,  re- 
quiring singleness  of  aim  and  "  long  patience."  He  well 
understood  how  difficult  it  was  to  gather  and  train  a  Prot- 
est-ant congregation  in  the  pure  faith  in  the  gayest  and  most 
pleasure-loving  city  in  America.  The  boulevards  and  the- 
aters of  Paris  were  not  more  frequented,  according  to  pop- 
ulation, than  the  promenades  and  operas  of  New  Orleans. 
The  Sabbath  then,  as  now,  was  grossly  desecrated.  Saloons, 
banks,  and  dry  goods  emporiums  were  as  much  astir  with 
business  on  the  Lord's-day  as  any  other.  In  the  midst  of 
such  scenes  he  often  felt  himself  to  be  but  a  feeble  yoice  cry- 
ing in  the  wilderness,  and  that  he  was  never  to  see  an  end 
to  the  day  of  small  things.  The  weariness  of  his  faith  in 
watching  for  the  dawn  of  a  brighter  morning  was  well  ex- 
pressed in  another  letter  to  the  Nashville  Christian  Advocate: 
"Think  of  Paul  in  Athens!  how  his  spirit  was  stirred 
there!    Were  he  to  rise  up  in  this  century  and  take  a  walk 

('?7) 


68  The  Editor-Bishop. 

through  this  metropolis,  would  there  be  nothiug  to  stir  his 
spirit?  Let  him  go  about  of  a  Sunday  night.  The  few 
churches  tolerably  full  to  be  sure,  but  room  for  more. 
There  is  Fowler,  the  phrenologist,  giving  the  religion  of 
bumps  at  Odd-fellow's  Hall;  Christie's  or  Campbell's  Min- 
strels, laughing  and  singing  in  burnt  cork  at  the  Armory ; 
grand  opera  at  the  Orleans — perhaps  '  Les  Huguenots '  on 
the  bill ;  horse-riding  at  the  Amphitheater  by  Miss  Some- 
body; St.  Charles  full  from  pit  to  gallery;  Varieties  ditto; 
and  so  on  for  a  page  full.  The  world  is  not  saved  yet. 
These  civilized  heathen  are  hard  to  pluck  from  the  burn- 
ing; easier  to  save  Chinese  or  Mexicans.  But  shall  they  be 
left  without  a  trial?" 

The  difficulties  were  great,  but  God's  grace  was  all-suffi- 
cient. During  that  year,  though  the  city  was  scourged  with 
the  most  terrible  epidemic  of  yellow  fever  ever  known  in  its 
entire  history,  and  the  young  pastor  suffered  the  sorest  trial 
of  his  life,  his  ministry  was  blessed  Avith  most  gracious  re- 
sults. About  twenty  were  converted  and  added  to  the  Church, 
and  the  whole  membership  renewed  their  baptismal  vows. 
One  characteristic  of  his  pastoral  history  is  worthy  of  all 
emulation — the  care  with  which  he  instructed  and  trained 
young  converts.  The  manner  and  spirit  in  which  his  re- 
vival-meetings were  conducted  are  best  indicated  by  his  own 
mild  criticism  upon  a  service  he  once  attended: 

"  Young  penitents,  and  old  ones  too,  need  more  instruc- 
tion, more  prayer,  and  less  excitement-making.  I  may  be 
heterodox — atid  if  so,  it  is  not  desirable  to  be  otherwise — in 
condemning  the  kind  of  hymnology  which  pervades  these 
meetings.  These  fanciful,  ad  cajiiandum  songs  should  be 
purged  from  the  Church  and  banished  the  sacred  precincts 
of  our  altars.  No  Church  has  produced  so  rich  and  beau- 
tiful a  collection  of  spiritual  and  evangelical  hymns,  adapt- 
ed to  all  occasions  and  states,  as  our  own.     The  best  of  these 


First  Year  in  New  Orleans.  59 

are  neatly  compiled,  selected  with  taste  and  judgment,  and 
probably  for  the  very  purpose,  in  part,  of  excluding  the 
pernicious  doggerel  of  which  I  speak  from  the  pale  of  wor- 
ship. Such  a  result  would  be  creditable  to  religion,  and 
any  thing  but  detrimental  to  enlightened  and  scriptural 
piety." 

On  the  7th  of  June  of  this  year  Linus  Parker  was  mar- 
ried to  his  first  wife.  Miss  Sallie  F.  Sale.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Rev.  Alexander  Sale;  and  the  ceremony  was 
performed  by  Rev.  Thomas  Stringfield,  at  Mr.  Sale's  resi- 
dence, near  Courtlaud,  Lawrence  county,  Alabama.  The 
father  of  this  young  itinerant  bride  was  for  many  years  a 
great  leader  in  the  Church.  Entering  the  Virginia  Con- 
ference in  1808,  he  soon  ranked  among  the  strongest  men 
in  that  historic  body.  After  some  years  he  located,  but 
having  removed  to  North  Alabama  he  reentered  the  itiner- 
ancy in  1823,  and  remained  in  active  service  until  1827. 
His  noble  and  dignified  bearing,  his  robust  intellect,  his 
large  liberality  and  profound  piety,  united  in  making  him 
a  prince  and  leader  in  Israel.  From  such  a  father  descend- 
ed the  bride  of  Linus  Parker.  She  was  a  rarely  gifted 
woman  and  of  remarkable  loveliness  of  character.  Her  pi- 
ety was  radiant  and  intelligent.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  she 
was  converted  at  a  revival-meeting  in  Aberdeen,  Mississip- 
pi, and  to  the  end  of  life  kept  invioJate  her  covenant  Avith 
God.  But  their  happy  wedded  life  was  of  short  duration. 
The  flower  had  scarcely  been  transplanted  to  its  Southern 
home  before  it  withered  and  died.  In  the  «llrly  summer 
a  fatal  pestilence  visited  the  city.  It  was  the  most  ap- 
palling epidemic  of  yellow  fever  that  ever  ravaged  the  State 
of  Louisiana.  It  raged  during  summer  and  autumn,  ex- 
tendetl  in  various  directions  into  the  interior,  and  subsided 
only  after  its  victims  could  be  counted  by  the  thousands. 
Hundreds  and  thousands  fled  at  the  first  note  of  alarm. 


GO  TuE  Editor-Bishop. 

The  crowded,  noisy,  busy  city  lapsed  into  the  painful  qui- 
etude of  a  deserted  village.  The  young  wife  was  urged  to 
leave  the  city  and  find  refuge  near  Mandeville,  across  the 
lake,  while  her  heroic  husband  remained  at  his  post  minis- 
tering to  the  sick  and  dying.  But  the  scourge  reached  her 
there,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  September  she 
passed  peacefully  away.  Tidings  of  her  critical  illness  were 
dispatched  to  the  city,  but  her  husband  only  arrived  in  time 
to  receive  her  loving  farewell  message.  Her  last  words 
were:  "Linus,  God  will  do  right.  Trust  in  God,  love!" 
This  was  a  great  sorrow  to  the  gentle,  affectionate  young 
pastor.  In  three  short  months  he  was  wedded  and  widowed, 
and  the  most  of  that  time  he  Avas  separated  from  the  wife 
of  his  youth,  hoping  to  save  her  precious  life  from  the  rag- 
ing pestilence.  That  memory  he  tenderly  cherished,  and 
under  God,  it  sanctified  to  his  people  a  gospel  of  sweeter 
comfort.  As  a  revelation  of  his  gentle,  chastened  spirit, 
and  an  example  of  his  rare  gifl  of  beautiful  composition,  an 
extract  from  a  letter  to  the  New  Orleans  Christian  Advocate, 
written  in  the  summer  of  1857,  is  given.  It  is  descriptive 
of  old  Mandeville  College,  and  the  place  near  by  where  his 
sainted  young  wife  was  buried: 

"  There  is  a  later,  sadder  vision  of  the  past.  Farther  up 
the  coast,  about  two  miles  as  the  crow  flies,  is  another  sum- 
mer village,  whose  cottage  roofs  are  shaded  by  giant  trees, 
and  whose  open  porches  are  sure  to  catch  the  freshest  and 
sweetest  of  the  newborn  zephyrs.  There  was  a  time  when 
the  pestilence  came  with  fearful  power  upon  the  city.  In 
all  its  years  it  had  known  no  such  a  visitation — so  terri- 
ble, so  utterly  appalling.  Broodijig  over  the  larger  prey, 
the  destroyer's  wing  threw  its  deadly  shadow  across  the 
water  and  upon  the  air  of  this  salubrious  retreat ;  nor  was 
it  lifted  away  till  the  sound  of  woe-stricken  souls  wailed  out 
upon  the  lake  breeze,  and  retreating  through  the  moss-hung 


First  Year  in  New  Orleans.  61 

live-oaks,  finally  lost  itself  among  those  requiem-singers  of 
nature,  the  grieving  pines.  And  now,  as  our  boat  skims 
along  and  away,  the  telescope  of  memory  pierces  yonder 
dim  and  wooded  shore,  and  fixes  the  eye  upon  a  single 
grave,  over  which  a  sheltering  oak  stretches  its  moss-craped 
arms.  The  very  mound  seems  to  borrow  grace  from  the 
form  it  covers ;  the  violets  on  it  grow  more  lovely  and 
breathe  their  fragrance  more  softly  than  elsewhere,  and  the 
moss-rose  and  spotless  jessamine  keep  their  vigils  of  odors 
at  the  head  and  foot  of  the  slumbering  dust.  Between  the 
buoyant  school-scenes  of  the  Quondam  College  and  this 
heart-trial  there  is  but  two  miles,  and  little  more  than  thrice 
that  many  years." 


THE  DILISENT  gITY  PASTOR. 


THE  most  delicate  and  difficult  work  of  a  preacher  is 
outside  the  pulpit;  and  there  is  the  true  test  of  his 
power.  He  may  have  all  the  gifts  and  graces  of  a  peer- 
less oratory,  and  enrapture  a  congregation  with  the  splen- 
dor of  a  genius,  and  yet  be  a  humiliating  failure  in  pas- 
toral administration.  The  eloquence  of  Apollos  may  dwell 
on  his  tongue,  while  his  soul  is  cast  down  with  the  thought 
of  a  barren,  unfruitful  ministry.  Pulpit  preparation  and 
power  are  imperative.  It  is  an  offense  to  God  and  a  sin 
against  souls  to  bring  unbeaten  oil  into  the  sanctuary.  But 
the  training,  edifying  function  of  the  pastoral  office  is  best 
emphasized  in  personal,  private,  and  social  contact  with  th^ 
flock.  Speaking  of  this  important  work  aimed  at  by  the 
Church,  the  great  Dr.  Robert  South  said :  "  To  expect  that 
this  should  be  done  by  preaching  or  force  of  lungs  is  much 
as  if  a  smith  or  artist  who  works  in  metal  should  expect  to 
form  and  shape  out  his  work  only  with  his  bellows."  The 
itinerancy  of  Methodism,  however,  is  perhaps  unfavorable 
to  the  most  effective  pastoral  influence.  There  are  ade- 
quate compensations  elsewhere,  but  this  inefficiency  has 
somewhat  aflfected  the  growth  of  the  Church  in  the  larger 
towns  and  cities.  Our  preachers  have  been  evangelists — 
voices  crying  in  the  wilderness.  Like  moving  battalions 
upon  the  field  of  battle,  they  have  hurried  to  places  of 
greatest  danger,  and  have  found  but  little  time  for  the 
quiet,  delicate,  wise  work  of  the  pastorate.  But  in  the 
(62) 


The  Diligent  City  Pastor.  63 

cities  it  cannot  be  neglected  without  serious  loss.  And  in 
no  place  is  large  sagacity  and  jiatient  industry  more  de- 
manded than  in  New  Orleans.  To  make  full  proof  of  his 
ministry  in  that  city  Linus  Parker  sought  to  combine  the 
methods  of  Paul  and  Apollos.  His  plans  were  carefully 
matured  and  wrought  out  with  the  patience  of  an  unfalter- 
ing purpose.  The  embarrassments  of  his  work,  occasioned 
especially  by  the  annual  dread  of  an  epidemic  of  yellow 
fever,  are  best  told  by  himself  in  a  letter  to  the  Nashville 
Christian  Advocate,  while  filling  the  Felicity  pulpit: 

"  Our  churches  are  sad  losers  by  the  annual  hegira.  Im- 
manuel's  armies  are  much  reduced,  and  some  congrega- 
tions are  nearly  broken  up.  All  of  our  social  and  relig- 
ious institutions  suffer;  Sunday-schools  are  partially  disor- 
ganized by  the  absence  of  teachers  and  by  departure  of 
scholars;  class-meetings  and  prayer-meetings  are  apt  to 
languish;  and  the  attenuated  congregations  in  their  en- 
deavors at  keeping  cooj  present  the  appearance  of  animated 
wind-mills.  In  the  sphere  of  the  pastorate — which  is  the 
right  arm  of  the  ministerial  functions  in  cities — the  evil  is 
sorely  felt.  The  flock  is  scarcely  gathered  before  it  is  scat- 
tered ;  and  the  pastoral  relation,  with  its  vital  ties  and  man- 
ifold benefits,  is  rent  asunder.  The  autumnal  avalanche  of 
traveled  Christians,  besides  baffling  the  pastor's  vigilance 
and  overtaxing  his  industry,  partakes  but  imperfectly  of 
the  communion  of  saints,  and  contributes  little  to  the  relig- 
ious influence  and  material  strength  of  the  Church.  No- 
where are  faithful  pastors  harder  worked,  and  nowhere  are 
their  labors  more  exhaustive  to  mind  and  body. 

"  In  the  fall  comes  the  reorganization,  when  the  scattered 
fragments  come  together,  '  bone  to  his  bone,'  and  the  knit- 
ting body,  with  the  drawback  of  a  summer's  disintegration, 
enters  upon  a  new  growth.  These  winter  overflows,  how- 
ever, leave  behind  thera  a  certain  sediment  of  progress 


64  The  Editor-Bishop. 

which  the  careful  culture  of  our  resident  people  turns  to 
account.  Thus  the  growth  of  religion  in  New  Orleans  has 
been  like  the  growth  of  a  tree — the  full  sap  is  in  the  trunk 
but  half  of  the  year,  and  the  development  is  marked  by 
the  concentric  circles  of  periodic  advance  and  stagnation." 

Into  the  homes  of  his  people  he  went  an  evangel  of  love 
and  a  trusted,  honored  friend  and  counselor.  Revered  by 
the  children,  admired  by  the  cultured,  confided  in  by  the 
troubled,  caressed  by  the  aged,  and  loved  by  all,  he  was  an 
admirable  city  pastor.  Cheerful  without  jocularity  in  the 
social  circle,  and  instructive  without  brilliancy  in  the  pul- 
pit, he  ^Yas  popular  everywhere.  He  had  the  successful  pas- 
tor's rarest  endowment,  tact — that  "delicate  and  subtle 
gift  almost  like  a  sixth  sense,  which  enables  its  possessor  to 
grasp  a  situation  and  say  and  do  the  best  thing  in  the  best 
manner  at  the  right  moment."  And  this  he  displayed  with- 
out compromise  of  manly  dignity  or  religious  conviction. 
He  pleased  not  for  pleasure's  sake,  but  to  gain  influence 
and  win  souls.  He  felt — and  truly — that  gruffness  is  not 
grace,  nor  is  grossness  the  badge  of  holiest  zeal  or  grandest 
fidelity, 

A  like  cordial  welcome  aw^aited  him,  whether  at  the  hovel 
door  of  squalid  poverty  on  a  back  street,  or  in  the  mansion 
of  the  rich  on  the  most  popular  thoroughfare.  And  to 
each  he  carried  the  same  message.  Through  every  epi- 
demic of  yellow  fever  he  remained  courageously  at  the  post 
of  duty,  and  feared  not  to  follow  with  a  gospel  of  comfort 
wherever  the  wing  of  the  death-angel  had  flown.  Many 
beautiful  stories  of  his  sympathizing  pastoral  labors  during 
these  dark  periods  might  be  related.  They  belong  to  the 
sacred,  unwritten  history  of  Christian  heroism.  Many  an 
aching  head  was  soothed  by  the  touch  of  his  gentle  hand. 
Sad  hearts  were  cheered  by  his  radiant  face.  When  death 
is  entering  every  door,  baffling  all  scientific  skill,  defying 


The  Diligent  (Jity  Pastok.  65 


the  tenderest  vigils,  and  the  sense  of  utter  helplessness  is  so 
oppressive  as  during  an  epidemic  of  yellow  fever,  no  visit 
is  so  grateful,  and  no  countenance  so  hope-inspiring,  as  a 
loving  pastor's.  By  the  works  he  wrought,  by  the  homes  he 
brightened,  the  doubting  he  strengthened,  and  the  dying  he 
comforted,  Linus  Parker  wrote  his  name  in  letters  of  living 
light  in  the  annals  of  New  Orleans  Methodism. 

There  was  another  popular  young  Methodist  pastor  in 
the  city  at  this  time  who  attracted  large  congregations  to 
Carondelet  Street,  and  became  a  pulpit  orator  of  Connec- 
tional  fame.  He  came  to  New  Orleans  the  same  year  with 
Linus  Parker,  as  a  transfer  from  the  Mississippi  Conference, 
and  for  over  thirty  years  they  were  intimate  friends  and  co- 
laborers.  It  was  fitting,  therefore,  that  at  the  burial  of  the 
Bishop  his  life-long  companion  in  toil.  Dr.  Joseph  B.  Walk- 
er, should  deliver  the  memorial  address.  He  yet  lives  in 
active  itinerant  service,  an  attractive  preacher  and  the 
charm  of  every  social  circle  he  enters. 

For  three  years — from  1853  to  1856 — Linus  Parker  was 
pastor  of  Felicity  Street  Church,  and  each  year  reported  a 
revival  -and  a  large  ingathering  of  new  members.  The 
Conference  which  met  at  Mansfield  December  14,  1853,  be- 
came historic  because  of  the  offer  of  a  two-hundred-dol- 
lar prize  for  the  best  essay  on  the  support  of  the  Methodist 
ministry,  which  led  to  the  writing  of  "  Post  Oak  Circuit " 
by  Dr.  J.  C.  Keener.  It  is  a  Methodist  classic,  and  will 
long  hold  a  chief  place  in  our  denominational  literature.  In 
1856  Mr.  Parker  was  stationed  at  Carondelet,  and  remained 
there  three  years  also,  with  growing  pastoral  success.  In 
1859  he  was  made  presiding  elder  of  the  New  Orleans  Dis- 
trict, and  also  had  pastoral  charge  of  the  colored  work  of 
the  city,  embracing  three  large  churches  and  about  fourteen 
hundred  members.  The  next  year  he  was  returned  to  his 
beloved  flock  at  Felicity,  and  continued  to  serve  them  un- 


66  TuE  Editor-Bishop. 

til  forced  to  leave  in  1862,  when  the  city  was  surrendered 
to  the  Federal  forces. 

During  the  earlier  years  of  his  city  pastorate  Linus  Par- 
ker's reputation  as  a  preacher  spread  abroad.  He  was  in 
demand  for  college  commencements  and  great  public  occa- 
sions; but  his  shrinking  modesty  and  exacting  home  duties 
allowed  him  rarely  to  accept  urgent  invitations.  In  the 
early  summer  of  1854  he  attended  the  Connnencement  of 
Centenary  College  at  Jackson,  Louisiana,  and  extended  his 
visit  to  Woodville,  Mississippi.  Of  the  visitor,  and  his  char- 
acteristics and  career,  the  Rev.  W.  P.  Barton,  then  pastor 
at  Woodville,  and  yet  an  honored  member  of  the  North 
Mississippi  Conference  in  regular  service,  thus  writes: 

"My  personal  acquaintance  Avith  Rev.  Linus  Parker  be- 
gan in  Woodville  in  1854.  From  mutual  friends  I  had 
heard  much  of  him  before  our  meeting.  My  expectations 
were  high;  they  suffered  none  in  the  acquaintance.  Wood- 
ville in  those  days,  though  a  small  village  of  a  thousand  or 
twelve  hundred  inhabitants,  the  seat  of  justice  for  Wilkin- 
son county,  was  a  place  of  great  social  importance.  It  was 
in  a  fertile  country,  surrounded  by  rich  planters  of  intel- 
lect and  culture.  Methodism  was  in  the  ascen<lency.  The 
McGehees,  Hoards,  Burrusses,  Waileses,  Lewises,  Angells, 
and  many  other  cultured  families,  made  up  a  congregation 
rarely  equaled  in  the  elements  that  compose  the  highest 
qualities  of  mind  and  heart.  They  had  been  ministered  to 
by  Drs.  Winans,  Drake,  Marshall,  Watkins,  Light,  the  se- 
raphic Elijah  Steele,  the  silver-tongued  John  C.  Burruss, 
and  others.  That  the  young  preacher  gave  the  fullest  sat- 
isfaction, and  met  the  highest  expectations  of  such  a  com- 
munity in  his  brief  visit  among  us,  prepared  us  to  expect 
much  of  him  in  the  future. 

"More  than  thirty  years  have  passed,  in  which  our  ac- 
quaintance ripened  into  friendship  and  intimacy.     That 


The  Diligent  City  Pastor.  67 

choice  circle  at  Woodville  is  broken — gone.  The  young 
preacher  grew  on,  ascending  step  by  step,  steadily,  grace- 
fully, by  the  application  of  a  well-poised  mind  and  sancti- 
fied heart,  filling  well  and  profitably  the  circuit,  station, 
district,  and  editor's  chair,  and  finally  the  episcopal  office, 
whence  he  ascended  to  our  Father's  house.  While  he  was 
fully  equal  to  any  place  to  which  he  was  called  by  the 
Church  of  God,  his  best  and  most  lasting  work  was  with 
his  pen.  He  was  not  a  newsmonger,  nor  did  he  excel  as  a 
paragraphist,  but  he  was  a  devotional  writer  of  rare  gifts 
and  graces.  His  editorials,  like  the  gospel,  created  their 
own  demand,  and  then  fed  the  hungry  soul  with  the  mar- 
row of  the  gospel.  They  had  the  grace  and  sweetness, 
freshness  and  polish  of  Jay's  "Exercises."  His  episcopal 
career,  full  of  promise,  was  cut  short  by  death  before  the 
Church  had  tasted  the  ripe  fruit.  The  promise,  well  assured 
by  a  successful  past,  was  all  the  Church  could  ask.  He  would 
doubtless  have  diffused  the  spirit  of  holiness  on  his  episco- 
pal tours  as  he  had  so  well  done  with  his  pen." 

The  young  pastor's  own  account  of  that  visit  is  as  cheery 
as  the  balmy  breath  of  morning  in  the  summer  mountains. 
An  extract  will  be  given,  as  it  graphically  describes  one  of 
the  pioneer  railroad  enterprises  in  the  United  States,  and 
displays  the  writer's  genius  for  newspaper  correspondence: 

"  Two  and  a  half  o'clock  precisely  we  are  at  the  Felici- 
ana depot  (Bayou  Sara),  and  off  on  the  cars  for  Woodville. 
One  passenger-car  and  two  for  freight  make  the  train.  Five 
hours  of  time  and  twenty-seven  miles  of  space,  through  a 
country  of  surpassing  beauty ;  hill  and  dale,  grassy  lawns, 
shady  groves,  and  cultivated  fields  we  see  by  the  way — the 
pleasantest  rural  scenes  to  be  met  this  side  of  Mason  and 
Dixon's  line;  English,  I  imagine,  in  some  respects,  but  in 
a  freer  country.  To  eight  miles  of  Woodville  it  is  West 
Feliciana,  a  parish  abounding  in  wealth  aud  comfort,  and 


68  The  Editor-Bishop. 

in  a  high  state  of  cultivation.  We  have  but  one  passenger 
besides  myself,  a  gentlemanly  conductor,  and  Mr.  Hoard, 
the  superintendent,  a  planter  of  Wilkinson.  This  road  is 
the  best  in  the  world  in  some  respects,  and  the  worst  in 
others.  It  is  the  most  varied  rail  that  a  man  ever  rode  on 
—the  old  flat,  the  modern  T,  and  sometimes  none  at  all. 
Rather  more  than  five  miles  an  hour  is  the  speed  we  aver- 
age. This  gives  opportunity  to  breathe  and  look  about. 
At  times  we  are  slowly  moving  at  a  perilous  height  over 
ravines  and  creeks;  then  again  creeping  through  deep 
places,  the  bluffs  looking  down  upon  the  train  and  seeming 
to  ask,  'Why  don't  you  go  faster?'  Now  we  are  stuck 
in  the  mud.  The  little  superannuated  locomotive  plunges 
and  blows  like  a  corpulent  horse  in  a  quagmire.  At  length 
we  drag  our  slow  length  along, '  and  we  are  escaped.'  This 
road  was  built  some  time  between  1830  and  1840,  in  what 
's  familiarly  known  as  *  the  flush  times  of  Mississippi,'  by 
a  company  having  for  its  style 'The  West  Feliciana  and 
Woodville  Railroad  Company.'  The  road  has  never  been 
remunerative,  the  stock  seldom,  if  ever,  at  par;  but  it  still 
exists  as  a  relic  of  the  past,  kept  up  by  the  money  and  en- 
terprise of  the  chief  stockholder,  Judge  McGehee.  The 
cars  do  not  run  on  Sunday,  preachers  are  always  franked 
through,  and  not  a  single  life  was  ever  lost  by  accident. 
This  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  any  other  railroad  in  the 
world  probably.  Our  time  and  space  are  accomplished, 
and  here  is  Woodville,  and  here  too  is  Brother  Barton  to 
greet  us.  The  greeting  of  one  such  man  is  worth  more 
than  that  of  a  joint  board  of  aldermen." 

While  on  that  trip  he  rode  out  nine  miles  south-east  of 
Woodville  to  see  the  Bethel  camp-ground,  a  i)lace  of  conse- 
crated celebrity,  and  for  forty  years  before  the  scene  of  a 
yearly  revival.  There  the  great  men  of  early  Methodism 
had  preached  and  prayed.     After  examining  the  hallowed 


The  Diligent  City  Pastor.  69 

ground,  the  devout  young  man  sat  down  to  meditate,  and 
the  following  were  his  tenderly  beautiful  reflections: 

"This  is  a  sacred  spot,  hallowed  by  many,  many  sacred 
associations.  In  the  stillness  of  this  August  noon  we  sit  in 
the  old  rustic  altar  and  meditate.  Thousands  of  souls  have 
been  converted  just  here  where  we  are;  and  what  men  of 
God  and  how  many  have  poured  out  burning  words  of  gos- 
pel truth!  These  grand  old  woods  have  rung  and  rung 
again  with  song  and  shout.  Here  mourners  have  agonized, 
have  found  peace,  have  gone  to  their  earthly  homes  telling 
what  great  things  the  Lord  had  done,  and  from  thence  have 
gone  to  their  heavenly  homes  to  prolong  the  strains  of  praise 
born  here.  The  throng  is  not  here;  the  tents  which  face 
us  on  every  side  are  forsaken ;  but  association  enables  us  to 

Find  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing." 


CHAPTER  II 

GORRESPONDENgE  UP  THE  RIYER. 


IN  the  summer  of  1856,  from  June  1st  to  August  21st,  Mr. 
1  Parker  was  absent  from  his  pastorate  at  Carondelet  on  a 
trip  to  the  North  and  East.  This  was  his  first  visit  home 
since  coming  South.  The  account  of  his  return  to  the  old 
family  roof-tree  near  Vienna  has  already  been  given,  and 
will  be  omitted  from  this  chapter.  This  tour  w'as  in  every 
way  enjoyable  and  profitable.  He  had  for  traveling  com- 
panions his  life-long  friends  the  Hon.  W.  H.  Foster  and 
wife,  Mrs.  Thomas,  and  others,  making  up  a  refined  and 
cultivated  company.  While  on  board  river  steamers  the 
days  were  spent  on  deck  making  observations,  and  the  even- 
ings in  the  cabin  for  literary  and  social  entertainment;  and 
among  the  most  favored  of  the  party  was  the  modest,  re- 
fined, companionable  young  pastor.  His  letters  written  to 
the  New  Orleans  Christian  Advocate,  under  the  general  title 
of  "Correspondence  up  the  River,"  descriptive  of  the  sights 
and  insights  of  that  trip,  are  among  the  choicest  gems  of  his 
graphic  pen.  As  they  are  so  characteristic  of  the  author's 
style,  and  contain  so  much  information  concerning  scenes 
and  places  visited  that  now  seem  strange  after  the  progress 
of  thirty  years,  extracts  from  some  of  them  must  be  insert- 
ed in  this  memorial.  None  of  them  have  ever  appeared  in 
book  form : 

High  Water  and  its  Advantages — Signs  Northward — Cliffs 
and  Roehs. 

"The  advantages  of  a  full  river  to  the  seeing  voyager  are 

(70) 


Correspondence  Up  the  River.  71 

iiiauifold.  The  Mississippi  itself  is  more  majestic  in  high 
water;  it  is  most  itself  and  most  natural;  it  seems  to  be  the 
state  it  was  born  to.  High  water  becomes  its  dignity,  it 
sets  well,  it  gives  a  fullness  and  rotundity  to  its  grandeur, 
and  seems  to  tell  us  that  all  subordinates  have  paid  their 
tribute.  This  circumstance  makes  a  vast  difference  in  the 
notes  and  enjoyment  of  a  traveler.  The  scenery  of  the  riv- 
er— that  which  made  up  its  islands,  points,  and  bends — is  en- 
hanced. It  is  then  to  be  counted  a  particular  felicity  to 
find  ourselves  on  this  great  water  when  it  rolls  its  greatest 
volumes,  when  it  rejoices  as  a  young  man  to  run  a  race. 

*'  The  monotony  of  the  great  river  is  in  evei*y body's 
mouth,  but  it  is  the  monotony  of  the  sublime,  from  which 
there  is  no  descent.  As  we  proceed  northward  there  are 
some  noticeable  changes.  The  cypress  and  the  moss  are 
left  behind  in  Louisiana,  and  the  live-oak  and  the  magno- 
lia. As  we  near  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  cotton  disappears, 
and  on  the  river  corn  is  the  main  object  of  cultivation.  I 
left  the  corn  in  Louisiana  in  gleeful  tassel,  looking  over  the 
tops  of  the  fences;  up  here  it  is  yet  in  the  blade,  and  not 
large  enough  to  make  the  field  look  green. 

"Another  indication  of  our  northing  is  the  protracted 
evening  twilight.  With  good  com])any  Ave  hasten  to  the 
hurricane  roof  to  sec  the  sunset  and  its  effects  upon  the 
scenery.  In  Louisiana  the  sun  goes  down  quickly — you  can 
see  him  drop  below  the  horizon,  and  presently  it  is  dark; 
here,  with  such  dignity  as  becomes  a  king,  he  retires  slowly, 
and  his  motion  is  as  difficult  for  the  eye  to  mark  as  it  is  to 
detect  the  movements  of  the  hour-hand  of  your  watch.  For  a 
space  he  lingers  behind  the  trees,  and  his  beams  play  and  dart 
amongst  their  tops  like  laughter  in  the  face  of  humor.   At  last 

The  evening  sun  hath  made  a  golden  set, 
And  by  the  bright  track  of  liis  burning  car 
Gives  token  of  the  goodly  day  to-morrow. 


72  The  Editor-Bishop. 

And  now  nature  mixes  her  dyes  and  paints  the  world. 
The  clouds,  the  'Nvoods,  the  waters,  all  take  up  the  colors  of 
the  parting  day  and  reflect  them  variously.  Gradually  the 
features  of  all  mingle  and  the  tints  mix.  The  scene  dis- 
solves, and  the  rent  mantle  of  the  setting  sun  in  twilight 
patches  fades  and  is  lost  in  the  night.  Then  the  stars  come 
out  one  by  one,  until  the  milky-way,  like  a  Mississippi  of 
light,  a  river  of  stars,  flows  overhead,  and  the  young  moon, 
Avith  its  thread-like  horns,  like  a  silver  mantle,  is  suspended 
just  above  the  dip  of  the  western  horizon. 

"  Where  the  Ohio  debouches  into  the  Mississippi  we  wit- 
ness a  magnificent  confluence.  Cairo  is  on  the  narrow  and 
sharp  point  made  by  the  meeting  of  the  waters.  Illinois 
literally  comes  to  a  point  here.  The  place  has  about  six 
good  houses  in  it,  and  a  substantial  wharf-boat  on  the  Ohio 
River  side. 

"  From  Cairo  to  St.  Louis  we  have  two  hundred  miles  of 
more  pleasant  western  travel  than  is  afforded  by  the  eight 
hundred  miles  we  have  left  behind  us.  We  touch  at  Caj^e 
Girardeau  after  tea.  All  we  can  say  of  it  is  that  it  is  a  city 
on  a  hill,  and  that  most  of  the  adult  population  is  at  the 
landing. 

TJie  Upper  Mississippi. 

"  Before  attempting  to  give  a  pen-glimpse  of  the  Upper 
Mississippi,  let  us  look  at  ourselves  and  our  fare.  At  our 
first  breakfast  we  had  a  rare  dish — it  smacked  of  Paris, 
China,  or  the  Gallic  epicureanism  of  Kew  Orleans.  It  was 
a  broil  of  nether  extremities.  They  had  a  look  of  life,  a 
living,  jumping  attitude.  Doubtless  the  cook  had  spitted 
them  in  the  very  act.  I  thought  of  JEsop,  the  boys,  and 
the  frogs — '  sport  to  you,  but  death  to  us.'  Nobody  but  an 
old  croaker  could  object  to  the  flavor ;  it  was  so  nice  to  see, 
and  so  delicate  and  squab-like  to  taste.  The  company  in 
cabin  is  unusually  various — more  than  a  fair  complement 


COKKESFONDEKCE  TJp  THE  KlVER.  73 

of  children,  all  mindful  of  their  right  to  make  as  much 
noise  as  possible.  There  are  men  and  women  of  course, 
young  people  and  old  people,  invalids  going  to  St.  Paul  for 
better  lungs  and  improved  digestion,  Eastern  men  bent  on 
land  speculations,  and  parties  of  pleasure,  raftsmen  returning 
to  the  lumber  regions,  and  wanderers  seeking  homes  and 
fortunes  where  they  may  best  find  them. 

"  Between  St.  Louis  and  Rock  Island  the  scenery  is 
worthy  of  note,  though  not  comparable  with  what  awaits 
us  farther  up.  There  are  a  number  of  cities  which  have 
sprung  up  in  an  incredibly  short  time.  Alton,  Quincy,  Keo- 
kuk, Nauvoo,  and  Burlington  are  all  beautiful  and  flour- 
ishing places.  Nauvoo,  the.  quondam  capital  of  the  Mor- 
mons, is  more  beautiful  for  situation  than  any.  A  hill  rises 
in  long  and  graceful  slopes  from  the  water;  around  it  the 
river  makes  a  spacious  bend,  so  that  we  seem  to  nearly  cir- 
cumnavigate the  place ;  the  houses  are  built  on  the  slopes 
of  this  three-sided  hill  in  circular  order,  and  looking  toward 
the  river.  On  the  summit  and  facing  up  stream  stands  the 
unfinished  temple;  two  winged  turrets,  and  a  center  wall 
which  connects  them,  are  all  that  we  see.  The  town  is  now 
occupied  by  a  company  of  French  Socialists,  who  are  mak- 
ing an  experiment  in  political  economy,  not  as  demoraliz- 
ing but  quite  as  absurd  as  that  of  their  Mormon  predeces- 
sors. A  peculiarity  of  city  building  on  the  river  is  that 
there  are  usually  two,  one  on  each  side.  A  spirit  of  rivalry 
and  emulation  inspires  them,  and  looking  each  other  in  the 
face  they  are  pushed  forward  in  enterprise.  Rock  Island 
and  Davenport  are  opposite,  the  former  in  Illinois  and  the 
.  latter  in  Iowa.  The  approach  to  these  towns  from  below  is 
fine,  indiscribably  so.  As  we  steam  along  within  four  or 
five  miles  we  find  ourselves  inclosed  in  a  vast  amphithe- 
ater having  a  diameter  of  at  least  ten  miles.  We  arc  sur- 
rounded  by  hills  which   rise  gradually  from   the   basin. 


74  The  EDiToii-Bisiiop. 

and  whose  distant  summits  are  robed  in  azure.  The  river  is 
dotted  with  islands,  amongst  which  we  make  our  way.  The 
towns  grow  upon  our  vision,  stretching  up  and  down  on  both 
sides  and  climbing  the  heights.  Rock  Island,  from  which  one 
of  the  cities  takes  its  name,  rises  in  the  channel  between 
and  nearer  the  left  bank.  Its  face  to  the  south  is  steep  and 
rocky.  From  either  shore  to  this  island  there  is  a  railroad 
bridge,  not  suspension,  but  with  arches  and  abutments. 
This  and  the  suspension  bridge  at  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony, 
are  the  only  bridges  which  have  spanned  the  Mississippi. 
Its  entire  length  is  five  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty 
feet,  consisting  of  six  spans  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  each. 
"  From  this  point  our  progress  is  one  of  uninterrupted  in- 
terest. The  hills,  the  everlasting  hills,  are  most  prominent. 
At  times  their  tops  are  in  the  blue  distance,  everywhere 
surrounding  like  the  mountains  round  about  Jerusalem. 
Then  they  rise  directly  from  the  water  to  a  height  of  four 
hundred  feet,  and  the  castle-like  rocks  at  the  summit  look 
as  if  they  would  topple  over  and  fall  upon  us.  Frequently 
these  hills  are  all  around  us,  and  the  clear  river  with  its 
islands  looks  like  a  placid  lake  embosomed  amongst  them,  or 
like  a  prisoner  hemmed  on  every  side  and  taken  unawares. 
Very  often  they  stand  in  groups,  peaked  and  grotesque,  and 
then  again  they  assume  the  attitude  of  regular  mountain 
ranges,  with  every  imaginable  beauty  of  outline.  Lake 
Pepin,  an  enlargement  of  the  river,  is  celebrated  for  its 
scenery,  but  we  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  pass  through  it 
in  a  dark  and  rainy  night.  One  object  we  saw  through  the 
gloom,  the  Maiden's  Rock,  which  has  a  perpendicular  of 
four  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  Tradition  says  that  years  and 
years  ago  an  Indian  maiden,  daughter  of  a  chief,  being 
thwarted  in  love,  threw  herself  from  the  top  of  this  promon- 
tory. This  was  a  very  romantic  way  for  a  young  red  lady 
to  rebel  against  paternal  authority  and  to  die  for  love. 


CoiiRIiSrONDENCE  Up  THE  RiVER.  75 

Minnesota  and  Minnehaha. 

"  Minnesota,  which  being  interpreted  is  *  sky-tinted  wa- 
ter,' is  the  first  territory  I  have  visited.  Every  thing  goes 
on  here  just  as  in  the  States.  The  Territory  was  organized 
by  act  of  Congress  March  3,  1849.  It  is  seven  years  old, 
and  by  the  census  is  already  entitled  to  the  dignity  of  State- 
hood. .  .  .  What  nature  does  here  she  must  do  quickly. 
There  are  but  three  growing  months — cold  spring,  chilly 
autumn,  and  freezing  winter  embracing  the  remainder  of  the 
year.  The  ice  thaws  and  begins  its  southward  journey  in 
the  last  of  April,  and  by  the  first  or  middle  of  November 
the  rivers  and  lakes  are  frozen.  The  atmosphere  in  summer 
and  winter  has  the  dryness,  electricity,  and  high  salubrity 
of  the  Mexican  table-lands.  You  can  sleep  with  open  win- 
dows, or  even  in  the  open  air  with  impunity.  Invalids  with 
pulmonary  diseases  spend  the  winter  here  and  are  benefited. 

"  Our  first  excursion  is  to  White  Bear  Lake,  twelve  miles 
from  St.  Paul.  Fine  horses,  but  a  slow  and  perverse  driver, 
bring  us  tor  it  in  time  for  a  dinner  of  fish  and  game — the 
best  dinner  we  have  found  in  the  Territory.  The  lake  is 
twelve  or  fifteen  miles  in  circumference,  a  large  island  of 
several  hundred  acres  is  in  the  center,  and  both  island  and 
main-land  are  crowded  with  a  munificent  growth  of  sugar- 
maple  and  oak.  The  water  is  as  clear  as  light,  is  the  best 
in  the  world  to  drink,  and  deep  enough  to  look  blue.  We 
are  rowed  over  its  surface  and  circumnavigate  the  island. 
The  water  sparkles  like  wine  twenty  feet  below  the  surface ; 
we  see  fish  and  shells,  and  every  sort  of  submarine  thing. 
Each  passenger  has  hook,  spoon,  and  line,  and  dancing 
over  the  waves  trolls  for  such  fish  as  he  has  just  eaten  for 
dinner.  On  the  pebbly  shore  of  the  island  our  little  fleet 
is  moored,  and  all  fall  to  work  seeking  for  chameleons  and 
other  curious  and  precious  stones.  Of  these  many  fine  spec- 
imens are  found  which  jewelers  would  prize.      Once  more 


76  The  Editor-Bishop. 

aboard  with  hook  and  line,  we  linger  in  the  shadow  of  the 
island  till  the  sun  gets  low,  and  then  return  to  port. 

"  This  lake  is  supplied  by  a  spring  which  bursts  up  fi-om 
the  center  and  bottom,  and  always  keeps  the  lake  at  a  uni- 
form height.  White  Bear  is  the  largest  lake  we  saw,  but 
there  are  many  others  smaller  and  not  less  beautiful,  which 
we  passed  and  saw  at  a  distance.  They  are  supplied  by 
gushing,  powerful  springs,  and  their  outlets  are  the  source  of 
several  large  rivers.  The  Ked  River  of  the  North  and  the 
Mississippi  take  their  rise  in  these  spring-lakes.  Minneso- 
ta has  been  styled  with  truth  the  artesian-fountain  of  the 
continent.  No  country  in  the  world  equals  it  in  the  num- 
ber, beauty,  and  purity  of  its  lakes. 

"  Our  next  excursion,  and  the  one  of  greatest  distance 
and  interest,  is  to  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  and  other  no- 
ticeable places.  There  is  an  observatory  below  the  falls 
and  near  the  bank  of  the  river,  called  '  Cheever's  Tower,' 
as  high  as  the  tower  of  St.  Patrick's,  and  built  like  the  fine 
tower  on  Washington  Avenue.  Over  the  entrance  some- 
body has  perpetrated  the  following  distich : 

Pay  your  dime 
g  Before  you  climb. 

After  fulfilling  the  truth  of  this  poetry  (?)  we  ascended  to 
the  dizzy,  buzzy  top,  and  luxuriated  in  the  magnificent  coup 
d'ceil.  We  look  upon  the  Mississippi  at  least  two  thousand 
miles  from  its  mouth.  The  channel  is  visible  in  its  wind- 
ings for  miles  above  and  below  St.  Anthony.  The  prairies, 
wnth  their  varied  woods,  grasses,  and  grains,  stretch  away 
like  the  dead  swells  from  the  mast  of  a  ship.  As  we  stand 
and  contemplate  we  are  filled  with  regret  that  we  could  not 
have  looked  upon  the  falls  befoje  the  utilitarian  pale-faces 
came  and  haggled  and  ruined  what  must  have  been  one  of 
the  loveliest  scenes  on  the  continent.  Half  a  mile  above 
the  falls  is  a  suspension  bridge,  built  like  the  bridge  at  Ni- 


COKRESPONDENCE    tJp  THE  RiVER.  77 

agara,  but  not  of  equal  size  or  cost.  Crossing  on  this  bridge 
we  drive  to  the  Falls  of  Minnehaha,  six  miles  below  Min- 
neapolis. The  outlet  of  Lake  Minnetonka  here  makes  a 
perpendicular  leap  of  eighty  feet.  It  is  a  small  stream,  be- 
tween a  brook  and  a  creek,  twenty  or  thirty  feet  wide,  and 
half-knee  deep.  Crossing  it  above  we  wind  around,  and  in 
a  deep  gorge  or  dell,  shut  in  by  precipitous  banks,  and  over- 
hung with  trees  and  vines,  we  see  the  'laughing- water' 
face  to  face.  It  is  a  thing  of  beauty,  or  rather  of  marvel- 
ous prettiness.  With  the  trees  and  shrubs — which  from 
some  points  partially  hide  it — and  with  the  sparkling,  dimp- 
ling, cachinnating  look  and  sound  of  the  water,  we  feel  that 
Minnehaha  alone  expresses  what  is  heard  and  seen.  Some 
wretch  has  attempted  to  change  the  name  to  perpetuate  his 
own— 'Brown's  Falls.'  'Shades  of  the  Dakotahs!  The 
man  that  would  be  guilty  of  such  an  impious  thing  ought 
to  be  scalped ! ' " 

[The  party  returned  to  Chicago  and  went  eastward  by 
way  of  Niagara.] 

Niagara. 

"After  what  has  been  said  and  written  for  a  hundred 
years,  and  after  the  world's  suffrage  has  a<^prded  to  Niag- 
ara the  first  place  amongst  the  wonders  of  nature,  it  is  im- 
possible to  approach  the  first  view  without  emotion.  We 
tremble  lest  the  introduction  shall  overpower,  and  then  are 
fearful  lest  it  shall  fall  below  excited  and  extravagant  ex- 
pectation. Either  of  these  alternatives  was  obviated  to 
some  extent  by  the  twilight,  and  by  the  very  partial  view 
>Vhich  the  bridge  affords.  The  effect  was  unexpectedly  pas- 
sive and  tranquil.  There  were  no  interjective  heart-throbs, 
no  breathless  awe,  nothing  overwhelming.  Every  thing, 
the  river  beneath  us,  and  the  falls — of  which  we  had  but  a 
side-face  glimpse — were  less  grand ;  they  were  smaller  than  we 
expected.     Tupper  did  not  think  Niagara  sublime,  and  said 


78  The  Editor-Bishop. 


so.  For  the  first  time  I  began  to  thiuk  well  of  Tupper, 
who  could  be  heterodox  that  he  might  be  true.  But  with 
this  sense  of  disappointment  there  was  a  consciousness  of  il- 
lusion, and  a  conviction  that  the  first  impression  was  decep- 
tive. Like  the  chef-d'oeuvre  of  painting  and  sculpture,  this 
great  work  of  God  must  be  studied  in  all  lights  and  views, 
and  in  connection  with  many  accessory  features.  The  idea 
of  magnitude  is  derived  from  comparison  and  analysis. 

"A  stranger  is  struck  Avith  the  points  of  diflPerence  be- 
tween the  descriptions  he  has  seen  and  read  and  the  scenes 
as  he  sees  them  himself  Descriptive  writers  and  artists,  in 
their  word  and  pencil  pictures,  give  accurate  expression  of 
lions,  elephants,  and  landscapes,  and  we  are  surprised,  when 
we  see  the  originals,  at  their  truthful  delineations.  But 
Avith  Niagara  it  is  all  the  other  way.  The  traveler  feels 
that  he  has  never  had  any  adequate  and  accurate  idea  at 
all.  The  half  has  neither  been  described  nor  painted,  and 
never  will  be.  The  following  features  had  escaped  my  at- 
tention :  First,  the  outline  of  the  falls  and  their  relative  po- 
sition. Instead  of  making  a  curve  or  semi-circle,  the  ex- 
tremas  of  which  are  opposite,  the  trend  of  rock  and  the  di- 
rect line  of  the  comb  of  water  extend  diagonally  across,  far 
up  and  down  the  river,  so  that  the  falls  present  a  nearly 
front  face  to  the  Canada  shore.  Goat  Island  is  the  second 
feature  of  which  I  had  no  right  conception.  The  pictures 
are  mostly  profiles,  and  this  island,  like  people's  noses  in 
such  cases,  is  higher  and  sharper,  and  not  relatively  as 
broad  as  it  really  is.  The  front  face  gives  its  proportions 
better,  and  causes  it  to  fill  one-third  of  the  entire  span.  Its 
area  is  greater,  not  a  mere  foot-hold  for  goats,  but  broad, 
covered  with  magnificent  forest-trees,  and  of  ample  dimen- 
sions for  the  site  of  a  city.  In  the  next  place  the  greater 
breadth  above  the  falls  and  the  rapids  had  escaped  my  at- 
tention.    It  is  more  like  a  lake  than  a  river,  converging  like 


Correspondence  Up  the  River.  79 

the  mouth  of  a  bay,  and  becoming  a  river  proper  not  till  it 
tumbles  over  the  precipice.  The  rapids,  to  my  mind,  dis- 
pute ^vith  the  falls  for  the  palm  of  sublimity.  From  the 
calm,  deep  lake  the  waters  commence  their  mad  race,  and  for 
miles  above  they  come  in  giant  strides  to  the  final  and  fear- 
ful leap.  Like  a  troop  of  horse  rushing  to  the  charge,  they 
come  in  a  gallop ;  ^vith  manes  of  foam  and  tread  of  thunder 
they  come.  The  foremost  waves  are  baffled  and  broken  by 
the  rocks  and  islands,  but  with  conscious  invincibility  they 
deploy  to  right  and  left,  reform  below,  and  in  massive 
grandeur  hurl  themselves  into  the  smoking  abyss.  It  is 
impossible  not  to  feel  that  these  waves  are  animated,  and 
the  illusion  clothes  them  with  life  and  individuality  when 
they  disappear  in  the  depths;  and  then  again  when  they 
come  out  of  the  spray  and  creamy  foam  and  flow  lazily 
away,  as  if  stunned  by  the  shock  or  subdued  by  the  terrible 
experience  of  their  recent  revel.  .  .  . 

"Niagara  by  moonlight  would  startle  the  dullest  prose 
into  poetry.  Not  for  our  accommodation,  but  because  it 
was  the  right  time  of  the  month,  the  moon  shone  on  us  and 
enhanced  the  scene  by  her  charms.  Goat  Island  is  quiet 
now.  Only  a  few  are  moving  among  the  trees,  or  standing, 
like  specter  sentinels  on  the  points  of  interest.  The  moon- 
beams mingle  with  the  shade  and  give  a  wild  solemnity  to 
the  scene.  The  roar  of  Niagara  is  terrible  at  such  a  time, 
and  its  sullen,  awful  voice  speaks  of  eternity  and  of  God. 
The  ground  trembles  beneath  its  weight,  and  the  leaves 
sparkle  like  aspen  in  the  breezeless  air.  In  the  mists  which 
rise  slowly  and  heavily  in  the  night  atmosphere  are  lunar 
bows,  sometimes  in  perfect  arches,  at  other  times  broken  in- 
to fragments,  or  turning  on  their  axes  and  changing  the 
plane  from  arch  to  circle.  They  looked  like  the  ethereal 
drapery  and  flitting  forms  of  the  spirit  world ;  almost  color- 
less, and  almost  eluding  the  sharpest  eye,  it  was  not  unnat- 


80  The  Editor-Bishop. 

ural  to  thiuk  that  those  bows  indicated  the  presence  of  dis- 
embodied spirits. 

"  Divested  of  our  usual  apparel  and  clothed  in  submarine 
style,  we  descend  to  the  foot  of  Table  Rock,  more  than  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  of  stairs,  and  tread  the  narrow  foot-path 
which  leads  under  the  falls  and  to  Termination  Rock.  Here 
the  roar  and  crash  is  deafening,  and  the  spray  is  blinding 
and  suffocating.  Besides  having  the  sublimest  shower-bath 
in  the  world,  the  adventurer  obtains  the  only  full  concep- 
tion of  Niagara's  power.  This,  unlike  all  others,  is  not  a 
superficial  view,  for  we  stand  under  and  behind  it,  and  are 
overwhelmed.  Ascending  and  resting  from  the  fatigue  of 
our  adventure,  we  drive  to  the  Clifton  House  and  wit- 
ness the  finest  of  all  our  sight-seeing.  The  moon  rises 
directly  over  Goat  Island  and  gradually  bathes  rocks, 
trees,  and  water  in  light.  We  see  the  falls  in  all  their 
breadth  and  majesty,  and  the  rapids  have  put  on  brazen 
helmets. 

"  AVhile  at  Niagara  we  visit  the  celebrated  battle-field  of 
Lundy's  Lane.  There  are  two  towers  erected  on  the  battle- 
ground, from  which  the  view  is  wide  and  charming.  Our 
guide — the  man  of  the  tower — was  in  the  battle,  and  by 
our  leave  fought  it  over  again.  There  is  a  quiet  burial- 
place  near  the  tower,  in  which  some  of  the  officers  who  fell 
are  interred.  AVhere  the  greatest  slaughter  was,  and  where 
scores  are  buried,  corn  and  wheat  are  growing  luxuriantly. 
All  is  peace  now.  The  din  of  battle,  the  marshaling  of 
armed  men,  and  the  groans  of  wounded  and  dying  have 
given  place  to  peace.  The  dead  sleep  well,  and  war  has 
left  no  trace  of  its  bloody  march.  In  the  distance  to  the 
south-east  the  spires  of  Buffalo  are  perceptible,  to  the 
north-east  Brock's  Monument  lifts  its  head  from  Queens- 
town  Heights,  and  to  the  north-west  the  surface  of  Ontario 
glistens  in  the  evening  sun.     Nearer,  and  yet  distant,  the 


CoRRIiSPONDENCE  Up  THE  RiVER.  81 

falls,  the  villages,  the  river,  the  islands,  and  Lake  Erie  are 
spread  out  as  if  at  our  feet. 

Wilbraham. 
"Eight  miles  from  Springfield  is  Wilbraham,  a  pictur- 
esque village  situated  at  the  foot  of  a  range  of  mountains 
and  ornamented  by  some  of  New  England's  most  ancient 
and  stately  elms.  These  elms  are  to  New  England  what  the 
live-oak  is  to  Louisiana — the  pride  of  her  forests.  A  chapter 
might  be  written  about  them,  for  they  are  of  storied  inter- 
est, and  witnesses  of  events  that  are  most  thrilling.  Apart 
from  the  fact  that  they  are  useful  and  ornamental  adjuncts 
to  scenery,  they  are  monumental.  They  constitute,  to  my 
mind,  a  decided  feature  of  what  is  beautiful  and  revered ; 
and  the  care  with  which  they  are  cherished  is  evidence  of 
taste  and  patriotism.  These,  with  her  old  homesteads  and 
her  hoary  and  honored  grave-stones,  live  in  relief  upon  the 
tablets  of  memory.  Dr.  Raymond,  President  of  Wilbraham 
Academy,  showed  us  through  the  buildings  of  the  institution. 
.  .  .  The  name  of  Fisk,  the  first  president,  is  still  remembered 
and  revered ;  and  his  portrait  is  suspended  over  the  desk  of 
the  chapel  and  over  the  seats  of  the  presiding  officers  of  each 
of  the  societies.  The  influence  which  such  men  exert  after 
they  are  dead  is  wonderful.  The  people  here,  if  they  were 
Romanists,  would  cross  themselves  at  the  mention  of  his 
name.  Such  a  deep,  abiding  heart-worship  is  secured  by 
few,  and  the  secret  of  it  is  worth  investigation.  I  do  not 
find  that  it  was  peerless  intellect,  nor  that  it  was  the  ur- 
banity and  goodness  of  a  Christian  gentleman.  Some  or 
all  of  these  qualities  Fisk  may  have  possessed,  b»it  they  do 
not  disclose  the  cause  of  that  deathless  love  which  his  friends 
and  disciples  cherish.  .  .  .  Wilbraham  is  honored  in  her 
graduates,  many  of  whom  are  amongst  the  most  useful  and 
distinguished  men  and  women  of  the  country.  You  know 
6 


82  The  Editor-Bishop. 

it  is  an  academy  for  both  sexes.  They  are  classed  together, 
and  eat  at  the  same  table.  Dr.  Raymond  thinks  the  policy 
good,  and  that  the  system  works  well ;  that  young  people  who 
are  educated  for  society  are  better  educated  in  it,  and  that 
a  mutually  good  and  healthful  influence  is  exerted.  The 
experiment  has  been  long  and  fairly  tried  in  this  institu- 
tion, and  as  a  fact  is  worthy  of  consideration. 

Boston. 

"  On  the  first  Sunday  morning  6f  August  the  sun  rose 
upon  us  in  Boston,  the  city  of  notions  and  the  metropolis  of 
"  Down  East."  On  our  way  to  church,  and  on  our  way 
back  again,  the  crookedness  and  irregularity  of  the  streets 
are  both  striking  and  troublesome.  The  streets  are  scrui^u- 
lously  clean,  and  the  buildings,  for  uniformity  and  elegance, 
are  not  excelled  by  any  of  our  -American  cities.  But  the 
heat  was  terrible — as  near  the  roasting  point  as  weather 
could  be.  It  subdued,  it  melted ;  even  Southerners  became 
fusionists.  For  two  days  and  two  long  nights  the  thermom- 
eter stood  at  or  near  a  hundred  degrees ;  and  far  more  op- 
pressive than  the  same  temperature  in  New  Orleans. 

"At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  there  was  preaching  on 
the  Common.  Services  were  held  under  an  immense  awn- 
ing, and  attended  by  a  large  concourse.  The  sermon  was 
on  that  delightful  text,  "  God  so  loved  the  world,"  and 
•  came  from  the  preacher's  lips  with  sweet  and  refreshing 
unction.  I  could  not  help  turning  from  this  demonstration 
— indorsed  by  all  denominations — to  the  old  elm  under 
which  Jesse  Lee  stood  half  or  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago 
and  preached  alone,  without  an  escort  or  a  friend.  It  was 
an  unmeant  acknowledgment,  the  triumph  of  a  policy  which 
Methodism  has  illustrated,  and  for  which  she  has  been 
abused. 

"The  packet  which  plies  between  Boston  and  Portland 


Correspondence  Up  the  River.  83 

leaves '  Long  Wharf  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening.  The 
railway  is  direct  and  more  expeditious,  but  by  boat  the  trav- 
eler gets  a  view  of  Boston  Harbor,  snuffs  the  salt  breeze 
which  steals  over  the  deep,  and  is  rocked  soundly  asleep  by 
the  gentle  waves  of  the  Atlantic.  If  these  considerations 
have  due  weight,  he  goes  on  board  and  spends  the  long 
twilight  on  the  bay,  whose  surface  is  calm  and  unrippled. 
Standing  out  from  the  wharf  are  vessels  at  anchor,  others 
moving  out  to  sea  and  spreading  sail  for  distant  shores,  and 
others  still,  with  press  of  canvas,  have  coine  from  foreign 
lands,  and  are  at  the  end  of  their  voyage.  A  ship  tied  up 
and  stripped  of  her  canvas  and  colors  always  looks  crest- 
fallen and  melancholy.  Her  black  hull  crouches  in  sullen 
submission  in  the  dock,  and  her  naked  spars  are  like  skele- 
ton wings  divested  of  plumage  and  wasted  to  bone.  But 
when  under  sail  a  ship  is  a^  beautiful  and  glorious  thing. 
See  yonder  three-master  as  Qie  tug  swings  her  around  and 
conducts  her  seaward.  At  first  she  moves  heavily,  and 
with  sluggish  unwillingness  the  sails  are  gradually  unfurled. 
From  the  top-gallants  down,  one  by  one  they  are  shaken  out ; 
cat's-paw  breezes  play  hide-and-seek  in  their  flapping  folds, 
and  the  ponderous  vessel  treats  them  with  unperturbed  dis- 
dain. But  now  the  wind  awakes  her  slumbering  power, 
the  cordage  creaks,  the  spars  bend,  the' timbers  groan. 
Dropping  her  steamer  deliverer,  she  spreads  her  winged 
arms  to  embrace  the  breeze,  and  with  wild  delight  courts 
the  kisses  of  the  free  and  buoyant  waves.  She  is  clothed 
with  the  grandeur  of  the  element  with  which  she  contends. 
Neither  depth  nor  expanse  nor  agitation  deter.  She  hurries 
onward  to  meet  all  that  is  terrible  in  danger  and  all  that  is 
sublime  in  safety. 

White  Mountains. 

"The  steamer  enters  Portland  harbor  between  day-break 
and  sunrise.     We  breakfast  in  the  citv,  and  take  the  cars 


84  The  EDiTOR-Brsnop, 

for  Gorham,  the  nearest  approach  to  the  mountains  by  rail- 
road. Taking  stage  at  Gorham,  an  up-hill  road  of  eight 
miles,  through  wild  and  rugged  scenery,  brings  the  coach 
and  its  contents  to  the  '  Glen  House.'  It  is  in  a  glen,  deep 
and  secluded,  around  which  the  mountains  rise  in  indescrib- 
able grandeur. 

"And  here  one  might  sit  forever  unwearied  with  gazing, 
looking  at  nature  in  her  loftiest  mood,  and  feeling  all  the 
time  a  fullness  of  satisfaction  that  never  surfeits.  If  all  of 
GikI's  works  are  means  of  education  and  development,  the 
mountain  is  the  last  lesson  in  the  school  of  nature.  Its 
awful  form  is  most  godlike,  and  most  akin  to  eternity.  It 
has  the  functions  of  an  educator,  whose  mighty  lessons  have 
been  going  out '  since  the  mountains  were  brought  forth  or 
ever  God  had  formed  the  earth  and  the  world.'  They  have 
taught  men  liberty,  and  they  have  helped  men  to  survey 
the  heavens  above  and  the  earth  around.  They  have  been 
consecrated  to  learning  and  religion ;  and  history,  romance, 
and  superstition  have  clothed  them  with  the  attributes  of 
immortality.  In  Scripture  they  are  symbols  of  the  un- 
changeable and  the  everlasting. 

"  Few  visitors  go  away  without  making  the  ascent.  Eight 
of  the  clock  in  the  morning  is  the  hour  to  start.  The  dis- 
tance is  eight  miles.  Horses  are  kept  for  the  purpose,  and 
specially  selected  for  their  long  experience  and  sure-foot- 
edness.  Twenty-five  in  company — ladies  and  gentlemen — 
are  in  saddle  and  off  at  the  hour.  Two  guides — one  in 
fro:jt  and  one  in  the  rear,  and  well  provided  with  horse- 
shoes— accompany  the  miscellaneous  squadron. 

"As  we  proceed,  vegetable  growth  dwindles  all  at  once, 
and  but  three  or  four  miles  from  our  point  of  departure 
we  come  to  a  forest  literally  stnick  with  death.  They  are 
the  corpses  of  trees — ghastly,  leafless,  and  dead.  It  is  the 
picture  cf  all  that  is  desolate.    There  is  no  living  thing, 


Correspondence  Up  the  River.  85 

neither  quadruped,  nor  bird,  nor  even  insect.  Through 
this  a  half  mile  or  more  the  road  is  at  its  end,  and  all  tim- 
ber disappears.  Hence,  to  the  top  several  miles  ahead,  we 
proceeded  in  single-file  along  the  most  perilous  bridle-path 
the  most  of  us  ever  ventured  to  pursue.  It  is  worse  than 
riding  up  a  flight  of  stairs — sometimes  at  an  angle  of  nine- 
ty degrees,  and  ever  exceedingly  rough  and  abrupt 

We  begin  to  be  in  cloud-land.  They  form  at  the  top  and 
come  down  upon  us  in  avalanches  of  mist;  then  they  sweep 
across  through  the  gorges  and  intersect  our  path  ;  and  anon 
they  creep  up  the  acclivities  and  surround  us,  while  rain- 
bows play  in  their  curly  locks.  Onward  and  upward, 
through  clouds  and  amidst  a  world  of  granite,  till  at  last 
in  clear  sunshine  we  halt  upon  the  very  top,  seven  thousand 
feet  above  the  ocean,  and  the  highest  eminence  in  New  En- 
land.  .  .  .  Strange  to  be  a  matter  of  record,  but  a  fact,  the 
only  form  of  winged  life  is  a  mosquito — a  real  Lake  Borgne 
gallinipper — and  at  his  work  sucking  the  life-blood  out  of 
me.  Sublime  insect,  and  welcome!  The  only  forn)  of  veg- 
etable life  is  moss,  and  a  delicate  moss-flower,  as  modest  in 
its  habits  as  the  violet,  and  not  very  unlike  the  heliotrope 
in  appearance. 

"  The  scenes  change  constantly.  Now,  above  the  clouds 
and  with  the  blue  sky  over  us,  nothing  is  visible  below  but 
thick  fog-clouds,  whose  waves  of  mist  wash  the  brow  of  the 
jieak  on  which  we  are,  and  stretch  in  one  unbroken  gloomy 
expanse  around  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  Suddenly  the 
great  deep  is  broken  up;  a  clear  spot  opens  here  and  there, 
through  which  we  see  the  lower  world ;  then  the  mist  con- 
denses, and  reaches  down  into  the  notches  and  gulfs;  or, 
driven  by  opposing  currents  of  wind,  it  boils  and  whirls  in 
the  vapory  abyss  like  a  mighty  caldron.  Now  for  a  space 
all  is  clear  in  our  immediate  neighborhood,  and  the  horizon 
is  walled  in  bv  those  towerini;  cloud-structures  whose  snow- 


86  The  Editor-Bishop. 

white  heads  rise  in  awful  majesty.  Lightnings  dart  from 
their  inky  bases,  and  the  thunder  conies  from  them  pealing 
across  the  vale  and  echoing  amongst  the  heights.  It  is  the 
birth-hour  of  a  thunder-storm.  These  monsters  unite,  their 
identity  is  lost  in  one  huge  dark  mass,  and  this  at  length  is 
broken  and  separated  by  contact  with  the  mountains  or  by 
rapid  condensation.  But  these  aspects  of  nature  as  Ave  saw 
her  here  must  be  dismissed.  Difficult  as  is  the  ascent,  the 
return  is  more  so.  It  requires  good  horsemanship  and  firm 
nerves.  The  old  gray  that  carried  .this  writer  and  his  fort- 
unes deserves  honorable  mention;  how  he  made  not  one 
false  step  in  all  the  trip,  carried  his  rider  through  storm 
and  cloud  and  paths  most  appalling  to  look  at,  and  looked 
glad  when  his  day's  work  was  done." 


CHAPTER  X. 

SECOND  MARRIASE— JOHN  (S.  BURRUSS. 


THE  twelfth  session  of  the  Louisiana  Conference  was  held 
in  Mansfield,  De  Soto  Parish,  beginning  February  3, 
1858.  Bishop  George  F.  Pierce  presided,  and  greatly  en- 
deared himself  to  the  brethren,  who  had  only  known  him 
by  reputation  as  a  prince  of  pulpit  orators.  In  his  honor 
the  educational  enterprise  there  inaugurated  was  called  the 
"  Pierce  and  Paine  College."  At  that  session  Linus  Par- 
ker preached,  by  previous  appointment,  the  Conference  ser- 
mon, which  added  to  his  growing  reputation  as  a  lucid, 
spiritual  expositor  of  the  word  of  God. 

Just  before  the  Conference  assembled,  on  the  20th  of 
January,  1858,  he  was  married  to  Miss  Ellen  K.  Burruss, 
at  the  residence  of  her  father,  Rev.  John  C.  Burruss,  in  the 
parish  of  Caddo,  Louisiana.  That  union  was  in  every  way 
fitting  and  fortunate.  Miss  Burruss  was  a  cousin  of  his  first 
wife,  and  of  royal  Methodist  stock.  One  of  her  sisters  was 
the  last  wife  of  Judge  Edward  McGehee — a  woman  of 
marvelous  gifts  and  magnificent  character. 

In  those  days  a  trip  from  New  Orleans  to  that  "  most 
beautiful  of  North  Louisiana  homes,"  near  Shreveport,  was 
not  made  in  a  few  hours,  as  now.  It  sometimes  required 
weeks,  and  gave  full  opportunity  to  test  the  fiber  of  pa- 
tience. On  one  of  his  visits,  if  not  this  last  and  most  im- 
portant, Mr.  Parker  spent  three  weeks  on  a  steam-boat 
between  the  mouth  of  Red  River  and  Shreveport.  On 
account  of  Lnv  water  the  average  progress  was  only  about 

(87) 


The  Editor-Bishop. 


fifteen  miles  a  day.  But  the  time  was  not  unemployed  or 
idly  employed.  Becalmed  at  sea  on  one  occasion,  Mr.  Wes- 
ley mastered  the  German  language.  Not  less  active  was 
the  brain  or  receptive  the  heart  of  Linus  Parker.  When 
not  engaged  in  reading  or  Bible-study,  he  was  making  ob- 
servations from  the  deck  of  the  vessel  on  the  scenery  of 
the  country  or  the  geological  formations  displayed  in  the 
river-banks.  An  extract  from  a  letter  descriptive  of  a  trip 
gives  us  one  of  his  finest  pen-pictures — that  especially  of 
the  crane,  "thelzaak  Walton  of  the  feathered  tribe" — and 
further  indicates  the  chastened  maturity  and  poetic  exu- 
berance of  his  imagination : 

"We  became  profoundly  versed  in  the  uses  of  yawls, 
hawsers,  and  capstans,  and  have  the  nomenclature  of  fresh- 
water sailors  at  our  tongue's  end.  Amidst  the  continual 
jingle  of  bells  in  the  engine-room  we  distinguish  between 
one  jingle  and  another  jingle.  Each  bell  is  identified  by 
its  tone,  and  what  had  once  the  confusion  of  a  French  tete- 
a-t^te  becomes  a  clear  and  rapid  utterance  of  words  which 
we  discriminate  with  the  intuitive  readiness  of  our  own  ver- 
nacular. 

"  Our  observations  are  shut  in  from  the  outer  world  by 
banks  from  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  above  the  sky-lights.  On 
one  side  the  shore  rises  perpendicularly,  displaying  the 
various  deposits  which  the  floods  of  centuries  have  borne 
liither  from  the  roots  of  the  North  American  Andes.  The 
age  of  the  formations  can  be  guessed  at  almost  as  accu- 
rately by  these  marks  as  the  longevity  of  a  steer  by  the 
circles  on  his  horns,  or  of  a  tree  by  the  concentric  rings 
which  mark  its  annual  g;rowth.  At  this  stage  of  the  water 
the  geology  of  the  valley  is  laid  open  to  the  lovers  of  nat- 
ural science,  and  there  are  advantages  of  investigation  that 
no  other  time  affords.  Agassiz,  Nott,  and  Miller  would  do 
well  to  bring  their  lore  in  contact  with  this  marvelous  but 


Second  Makriage — John  C.  Burruss.  89 

not  always  opened  book  of  nature.  On  the  side  opposite 
it  rises  gradually  in  beautiful  slopes,  presenting  the  same 
geological  chapter,  only  in  larger  print.  The  scenery  at 
times  is  most  beautiful.  The  abrupt  bank  is  thick  with 
forest-trees,  which  stretch  out  their  broad  arms  as  if  pray- 
ing for  a  '  rise,'  and  fling  their  shadows  half-way  across  to 
the  other  shore.  Richly  dressed  in  their  own  foliage,  many 
of  them  wear  bridal-veils  of  moss,  laces  of  wild  ivy  and 
roses,  Avhile  pendant  from  their  boughs  and  reflected  in  the 
water  beneath  are  luxurious  tresses  of  wild-grape  and  mus- 
cadine. The  slope  just  across,  w'here  it  meets  the  water,  is 
not  a  point,  but  a  delicately  rounded  curve — Hogarth's  line 
of  beauty.  Upon  the  extreme  convex  of  this  line  stands  a 
tall  white  crane,  his  long  neck  bending  gracefully,  his  head 
so  turned  that  one  eye  looks  straight  down  into  the  water 
and  one  straight  up  into  the  sky ;  one  foot  and  leg  are  lifted 
akimbo,  as  if  to  secure  the  greatest  silence;  the  whole,  in 
pantomime,  proclaiming  him  the  Izaak  Walton  of  the  feath- 
ered tribe.  We  look  beyond  these  immediate  surround- 
ings, ahead  and  up  the  wild,  romantic  gorge,  through  which 
the  emaciated  river  drags  its  slow  length  along,  and  lo!  a 
southern  sunset  completes  the  picture.  The  warm  and  mel- 
low horizon  comes  down  to  meet  the  gilded  waters,  banks 
of  golden  cloud  continue  the  red  and  emerald  walls  which 
shut  us  in  from  the  lower  Avorld,  and  the  illusion  steals 
upon  the  heart  that  we  are  entering  the  golden  gate  that 
opens  into  the  splendors  of  the  tearless  land." 

As  the  lives  of  Linus  Parker  and  his  father-in-law,  the 
Rev.  John  C.  Burruss,  became  so  tenderly,  intimately  in- 
tertwined, this  memorial  would  be  incomplete  without  a 
sketch  of  that  remarkable  man.  He  received  the  gifted 
young  husband  of  his  daughter  into  the  family  as  his  own 
son,  gave  him  a  father's  blessing,  and  felt  more  than  pa- 
rental pride  in  his  apostolic  labors  and  growing  success, 


90  .         The  Ejditor-Bishop. 

and  in  the  hour  of  death  committed  family  and  estiite  into 
his  hands..'  How  far  lie  impressed  his  own  pure  and  noble 
spirit  upon  the  son,  and  how  much  it  afi'ected  the  character 
of  his  ministry,  the  eternal  years  alone  can  reveal.  A  very 
pwnce  and  leader  in  Israel  was  John  C.  Burruss.  He  had 
the  sjiiendid  bearing  x)f  a  commanding  general,  the  elegant 
manners  of  the  highest  refinement,  and  the  gentle,  seraphic; 
spirit  of  "  the  beloved  disciple."  His  voice  was  a  marvel 
of  compass  and  sweetness,  and  his  eloquence  was  Cicero- 
nian in  the  sublime  sweep  of  his  periods.  Of  large  benev- 
olence and  ample  fortune,  he  gave  liberally  and  preached 
divinely.  Whether  as  a  zealous  itineraSit  on  an  old-time  cir- 
cuit, presiding  elder  of  a  district  embracing  half  of  a  State, 
agent  of  the  American  Bible  Society,  city  pastor,  college  pres- 
ident, or  local  preacher,  he  worked  the  works  of  his  Ivord, 
and  left  a  heritage  of  worth  and  achievement  as  imjxirish- 
able  as  the  everlasting  hills.  As  president  for  some  years 
of  the  Elizabeth  Academy  at  Washington,  Mississippi,  he 
was  a  pioneer  Methodist  educator,  and  deserves  to  be  re- 
membered as  the  Wilbur  Fisk  of  the  South-west. 

John  C.  Burruss  was  a  native  of  Maryland  and  a  child 
of  the  Church  of  England.  He  was  born  near  Port  To- 
bacco, October  7,  1788,  but  removed  w'ith  his  parents  to 
Caroline  county,  Virginia,  while  yet  a  child,  where  he  grew 
to  man's  estate.  He  was  baptized  in  infancy  by  a  clergy- 
man of  the  Church  of  England,  but  never  assumed  the 
vows  of  confirmation.  Though  he  became  a  worldly,  irre- 
ligious young  man,  his  clear  })erceptions  of  Christian  piety 
and  propriety  aroused  distaste,  if  not  disgust,  for  the  fun- 
loving,  card-playing  clergy  of  that  day.  Into  that  section 
came  Bishop  Asbury  and  those  godly  men  of  "  the  people 
called  Methodists."  A  great  religious  awakening  followed. 
Among  those  convicted  of  sin  was  John  C.  Burruss,  a  gay, 
godless  young  man  of  twenty-four  y6ars  of  age.    He  sought 


Second  MarriagW-John  C.  Burruss^  91 

spiritual  counsel  of  the  only  deq^v  pious  woman  whom  he 
knew,  and  she  was  a  Methodist.  Aa  one  of  her  daughters 
had  to  lead  the  family  devotions,  the  jkifisenc^  of  the  young 
stranger  occasioned  some  little  embarras^ent/  But  while 
the  family  were  on  their  knees  and  the  niodeM  young  daugh- 
ter of  Israel  was  offering  the  evening  prayer,  w^e  visitor  re- 
ceived a  baptism  of  power — his  sorrow  was  turned  jnto  joy, 
and  he  rejoiced  aloud.  With  the  ardor  and  enthusiaslfe  which 
always  characterized  him,  he  mounted  his  hoi-se  the^ery 
next  morning  and  rode  ten  or  twelve  miles  through  a  bUn^' 
ing  snow-storm  to  the  nearest  Methodist  "  society,"  and  had ' 
his  name  recorded  among  that  despised  and  then  persecuted 
people.  His  family  were  grieved  and  astonished  beyond 
measure;  but  the  new  life  which  animated  him,  and  the 
divine  zeal  that  consumed  him,  overcame  all  opposition,  and 
converted  hostility  into  sympathy.  He  very  soon  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  his  widowed  mother  and  two  younger 
sisters  received  into  the  same  communion  with  himself,  and 
within  a  few  years  an  elder  sister  and  his  two  brothers.  Six 
months  after  his  conversion  he  Avas  licensed  to  exhort,  and  at 
the  end  of  twelve  months — in  1814 — was  admitted  on  trial 
into  the  Virginia  Conference.  His  first  circuit  was  Glou- 
cester, which  he  traveled  for  two  years,  and  on  it  was  ev- 
erywhere a  flame  of  fire.  His  winning  address  and  gracioihj 
manners  gave  him  access  to  the  people,  and  his  preaching 
was  universally  and  exceedingly  attractive.  Endowed  by 
nature  with  a  handsome,  classical  face,  and  that  best  gifl  of 
an  orator — a  voice  of  great  flexibility,  compass,  and  sweet- 
ness, the  young  evangelist  went  forth  preaching  free  salva- 
tion with  the  rare  grace  of  Whitefield  and  the  intrepid  ear- 
nestness of  John  the  Baptist.  But  a  shadow  fell  across  his 
itinerant  path  and  stayed  his  imperial  career.  The  pro- 
longe<l  ill  heahh  of  his  wife  compelled  him  to  locate  and 
remove  to  the  milder  climate  of  North  Alabama.    That  was 


92  ^  The  EditOk-Bishop. 


a  noble  company  of  emigrants  from  Virginia,  during  that 
y«ar  and  the  following,  which  constituted  the  intelligent, 
cultivated  community  of  Courtland,  Alabama.  Among 
them  were  the  ReV.  Alex.  Sale,  Rev.  Jesse  Butler  (broth- 
ers-in-law of  Mr.  Burruss),  Mrs.  Le  Vert^nd  her  sons, 
John  Poindexter  and  Richard  Norment  (brothers-in-law  of 
Mrs.  Burruss),  and  others. 

In  1822  Mr.  Burruss  joined  the  Mississippi  Conference, 
and  was  ap[)ointed  to  the  Cahawba  District.  In  1824  he 
was  stationed  in  Natchez,  Mississippi,  and  the  following 
year  he  became  President  of  the  Elizabeth  Female  Academy 
at  Washington,  jNIississippi.  In  the  minutes  of  the  Missis- 
sippi Conference  of  1826  there  is  this  sentence  in  the  list  of 
appointments :  "John  C.  Burruss,  President  of  the  Elizabeth 
Female  Academy,  to  devote  as  much  of  his  ministerial 
service  as  may  be  consistent  with  his  other  ayocatiojis  to 
the  village  of  Port  Gibson."  The  same  note  appeai^s  in 
the  minutes  of  1827.  In  1830  he  located,  but  continued 
for  some  time  at  the  head  of  the  academy,  and  preached 
largely  in  the  regions  round  about.  In  1835  he  again  ap- 
peared in  the  regular  work,  and  was  appointed  to  New  Or- 
leans Station.  There  his  great  gifts  as  a  pulpit  orator 
shone  forth  in  full-orbed  splendor.  The  following  admira- 
ble pen-picture  of  the  man  and  his  preaching,  l)y  an  intel- 
ligent hearer,  is  found  in  an  old  newspaper.  It  graphically 
describes  a  scene  worthy  of  the  ministry  of  Wesley  or 
Whitefield: 

"  It  was  at  one  of  the  early  Conferences  in  Mississippi 
that  I  first  saw  John  C.  Burruss.  He  was  in  the  prime  of 
life,  with  a  physiognomy  decidedly  classical,  an  eagle  eye, 
a  bold,  high  forehead;  a  nose  prominent  and  aquiline;  the 
mouth  wide;  lips  thin,  delicately  chiseled  and  firmly  com- 
pressed, throwing  over  the  countenance  a  blended  expres- 
sion of  benevolence  and  firmness.     His  hair  was  fair,  and 


Seconi>  Marhiage— John  C- Bukruss.  93 

worn  long,  and  his  costume  strictly  clerical  and  scrupu- 
lously neat.  Some  eminent  preacher  had  just  concluded 
an  impressive  discourse,  and  a  very  solemn  feeling,  deep 
and  intense,  prevailed.  Mr,  Burruss,  a  stranger  to  the 
whole  congregation,  commenced  to  sing  a  reviVal  hymn, 
and  the  feeling  grew  deeper  and  deeper.  He  read  from 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  chapter  tenth,  and  selected  a 
text  from  versed  twenty-five  to  thirty-nine,  inclusive!  Read 
the  chapter,  and  you  will  find  how  appropriate  it  is  for  such 
an  occasion  and  such  a  discourse  as  he  delivered.  He  be- 
gan in  a  very  low  tone — so  low  tljat  it  required  the  closest 
attention  to  hear  him ;  and  this  \Yaa  what  he  was  aiming  at, 
to  concentrate  the  attention  of  the  large  and  agitated  con- 
gregation. His  manner  was  extremely  solemn,  and  at  the 
same  time  so  insinuating  that  each  hearer  seemed  to  feel 
that  he  himself  was  the  object  of  special  interest  with  the 
preacher.  Gradually  he  pitched  his  voice  to  a  higher  key 
— not  loud,  but  vox  argeniea,  the  silvery  voice  which  Cic- 
ero praises  so  much.  His  manner  grew  animated,  his  gest- 
ures expressive,  with  such  a  flow  of  harmonious  cadences, 
of  beautiful  words,  of  poetical  imagery,  and  persuasive  ap- 
jxjal,  the  whole  congregation  was  enraptured — captives  to 
the  fascinations  of  elocution.  Having  made  this  favorable 
impression,  he  addressed  himself  to  the  feelings  of  his  hear- 
ers; painted  their  errors,  their  sins,  their  ingratitude,  and 
their  crimes  with  colors  so  vivid  that  many  hung  down 
their  heads  in  shame,  and  felt  that  they  were  the  basest  of 
criminals.  Groans  began  to  be  heard;  and  when  he  de- 
scribed the  perils  of  their  position,  the  vengeance  about  to 
fall  upon  them,  groans  were  followed  by  shrieks,  and  many 
involuntarily,  terror-stricken,  moved  toward  the  altar  as 
though  for  protection.  Observing  this,  the  skillful  orator 
made  a  raj)id  transition,  and  with  inimitable  pathos  dwelt 
on  the  sacrifice  of  our  Saviour  and  the  efficacy  of  his  blood. 


94  The  Editor-Bishop. 

His  own  eyes  filled  with  tears;  his  voice  trembled.  Uua- 
ble  to  proceed,  he  descended  from  the  pulpit,  and  the  whole 
congregation  wept  with  him.  Sobs  and  cries  were  heard 
in  every  quarter.  The  revival  had  commenced,  and  it 
went  on-  from  day  to  day.  The  ministers  caught  the  holy 
fire,  and  throughout  the  bounds  of  the  Conference  its  in- 
fluence was  felt.  Mr.  Burruss  became  at  on(?S  -an  estab- 
lished favorite.  He  found  a  way  to  every  heart.  The 
spirit-stricken  sought  him  for  the  consolation  which  his 
gentle  spirit  well  knew  how  to  impart;  the  worldly  ad- 
mired his  elegant  manners;  and  the  young  and  aspiring 
made  his  splendid  eloquence  their  study.  He  was  subse- 
quently prevailed  on  to  take  charge  of  the  Elizabeth  Fe- 
male Academy  at  Washington,  Mississippi.  It  was  the 
first  institution  in  this  section  of  the  Union  that  the  Meth- 
odists, as  a  denomination,  established — the  first  step,  it 
may  be  the  suggestive  step,  in  the  grand  system  of  educa- 
tion which  they  riow  iiave  in  operation  everywhere." 

In  1838  he  again  removed  to  Alabama,  and  remained 
there  until  1845,  when  he  removed  to  Aberdeen,  Missis- 
sippi. In  1848  he  settled  in  Caddo  Parish,  near  Shreve- 
port,  and  there  spent  the  evening  of  life  as  a  laborious 
local  preacher  and  successful  planter,  and  where  he  died 
on  the  4th  of  September,  1863.  The  last  two  years  of  his 
life  were  saddened  and  clouded  by  the  anxieties  and  sor- 
rows of  the  civil  war  then  in  progress.  The  suffering  and 
loss  of  life  it  brought  upon  the  country  seemed  almost  to 
crush  his  spirit.  His  tender,  loving  nature  was  utterly 
overwhelmed  at  the  great  national  calamity. 

Thus  passed  away  one  of  the  grandest  men  in  South-west- 
ern Methodism  His  life  was  a  benediction  to  every  com- 
munity where  he  resided,  his  example  stainless  and  beauti- 
ful, and  his  name  never  mentioned  but  in  blessing. 


mmm  xi 

.VASAIN  IN  THE  SOUNTRY. 


LOUISIANA,  and  the  city  of  New  Orleans  especially, 
early  felt  the  -wild  excitement  and  stirring  enthusiasm 
of  the  war  between  the  States.  It  was  a  sou  of  Louisiana 
that  fired  the  first  gun  at  Fort  Sumter,  whose  echoes  rang 
northward  and  southward,  hurrying  both  sections  to  bloody 
conflict.  A  Bishop  of  that  diocese,  having  had  a  military 
training  at  West  Point,  was  induced  to  lay  aside  his  episco- 
pal robes  and  accept  a  major-general's  commission.  The 
streets  of  New  Orleans  echoed  only  to  the  rattle  of  war- 
drum  and  the  tread  of  gayly-uniformed  Yolnnteers  organiz- 
ing and  departing  for  the  campaigns  in  Virginia  and  Ten- 
n^see.  Nearly  all  lines  of  business  were  suspended  and  all 
vocations  forsaken.  The  Church  also  suffered  from  the  pre- 
vailing excitement,  while  many  pastors  enlisted  either  as 
soldiers  or  chaplains,  and  went  to  the  front  to  preach  and 
pray  with  the  "  boys  in  gray." 

But  Linus  Parker  remained  at  bis  post,  preaching  regu- 
larly to  the  little  flock  at  Felicity,  now  composed  mostly  of 
women  whose  sons,  husbands,  and  fathers  were  far  away  in 
camp  and  field.  There  he  staid,  doing  all  the  work  of  a 
sympathizing,  helpful  pastor,  until  the  latter  part  of  April, 
1862,  when  Farragut's  fleet  having  dismantled  and  success- 
fully passed  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip,  anchored  at  the 
city's  wharf,  "black  with  men,  heavy  with  deadly  portent; 
the  long-banished  stars  and  stripes  flying  against  the  frov.n- 
ing  sky."  The  city  having  surrendered  to  the  Federal  fore- 
OS) 


96  The  Editor-Bishop. 

es,  he  joined  his  family  at  Mr.  Burruss's  delightful  home  in 
Caddo,  and  there  remained  until  the  close  of  the  war.  Our 
churches  in  New  Orleans  were  soon  placed  in  charge  of 
Northern  preachers,  who  retained  them  under  the  famous 
" Stauton-Ames  Order"  for  some  time  after  peace  was  re^ 
stored,  and  surrendered  them  at  last  only  in  obedience  to  a 
mandate  from  the  President  of  the  United  States.  Though 
exiled  from  his  regular  pastorate  Mr.  Parker  was  not  at 
ease  in  Zion.  The  preacher  at  Shreveport  having  entered 
the  Confederate  army  as  a  chaplain,  he  supplied  that  sta- 
tion for  two  and  a  half-years.  He  resided  some  twenty- 
three  miles  distant  on  a  plantation,  but  filled  his  appoint- 
ments regularly,  and  had  a  good  degree  of  success.  At  the 
Conference  held  at  Minden,  beginning  December  7,  1864 — 
Rev.  J.  C.  Keener,  D.D.,  President — he  was  appointed  to 
Caddo  Circuit.  There  he  labored  with  accustomed  fidelity, 
but  the  disorganized  state  of  the  country,  and  necessary  sec- 
ular duties  in  order  to  obtain  a  supjwrt,  rendered  anj-^  up- 
building or  ingathering  quite  impossible.  After  the  death 
of  his  father-in-law  he  had  charge  of  the  large  planting  in- 
terests of  the  estate,  and  demonstrated  no  little  aptitude  for 
agricultural  pui'suits. 

Though  a  native  of  the  far  North  and  reared  in  the  val- 
ley of  the  Mohawk,  Mr.  Parker  became  intensely  Southern 
in  his  convictions  and  sympathies.  He  admired  the  con- 
servative spirit  of  the  South,  and  rejoiced  in  her  history  and 
institutions.  The  uninformed  and  purblind  are  accustomed 
to  speak  of  this  people  as  passionate,  hot-blooded,  and  fickle; 
quick  in  their  impulses,  unstable  in  their  convictions,  and 
fanatical  in  their  preferences;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  they 
are  calm  in  judgment,  catholic  in  spirit,  conservative  in 
prinicple,  and  tenacious  of  their  opinions.  Wild  political 
vagaries  and  theological  heresies,  that  find  ready  advocates 
and  apologists  in  other  latitudes,  never  secure  home  and 


Again  In  the  Country.  97 


throne  iu  the  South.  On  this  subject  the  observant,  philo- 
sophical mind  of  Mr.  Parker  meditated  as  follows: 

"  Southern  soil  has  not  proved  congenial  to  the  growth  of 
tliose  morbid  and  wicked  aberrations  of  mind  and  morals 
which  have  of  late  years  sprung  up  and  flourished  in  the 
temperature  of  the  free  States.  There  is  in  the  South  some 
healthful  principle  of  conservatism  which  saves  us,  in  the 
main,  from  those  evils  that  are  so  rampant  elsewhere.  That 
principle  must  lie  in  the  profoundest  elements  of  the  genius 
of  the  people  and  in  those  extraneous  circumstances  which 
are  peculiar  to  them.  The  history  ©f  Church  and  State  for 
the  last  half-century  sufficiently  establishes  the  position 
that  ultraisms  are  mostly  born  and  bred  in  the  North,  ajid 
that  a  wholesome  and  constitutional  moderation  has  been 
maintained  in  the  South." 

And  in  the  controversy  and  correspondence  between  the 
two  branches  of  our  American  Episcopal  Methodism  he 
ably  defended  the  Southern  view.  While  desiring  the  es- 
tablishment of  ecclesiastical  and  Christian  fraternity,  he  in- 
sisted that  it  should  preserve  the  plighted  faith  of  the  Plan 
of  Separation,  which  in  substance  aflSrmed  and  secured  the 
complete  equality  of  the  Southern  Church,  and  its  unim- 
paired rights  of  name  and  property.  With  the  conclusions 
of  the  "Cape  May  Commission"  he  was  entirely  satisfied, 
and  rejoiced  in  the  removal  of  all  obstacles  to  honorable, 
cordial  fraternity  with  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 

In  this  connection  it  is  proper  to  give  Dr.  Parker's  ma- 
tured and  dispassionate  views  concerning  the  negro  and 
slavery : 

"  If  previous  to  their  enslavement  the  American  negroes 
had  been  civilized  Christian  people,  there  might  be  some 
reason  in  speaking  of  the  unfavorable  influence  of  slavery; 
but  in  fact,  and  in  the  order  of  a  beneficent  Providence,  the 
ignorant  and  brutal  savage  of  Africa  has  been  immeasura- 
7 


98  Tin:  KmTou-liisiiop. 

— — — • 1 — 

bly  elevated  and  blessed.  The  hand  of  God 'was  in  it,  and 
■when  the  mission  of  slavery  was  accomplished,  the  institu- 
tion was  abolished.  ...  By  it  they  were  brought  in  contact 
with  the  very  best  type  of  Anglo-Saxon  character  and  with 
the  purest  form  of  the  gospel,  as  preached  by  the  Southern 
Methodists  and  others.  The  negro,  thus  enlightened  and 
saved  by  means  of  slavery,  has  reason  to  be  thankful  that 
in  this  wonderful  way  he  was  brought  up  out  of  savagery 
and  made  a  Christian  man.  Slavery  is  a  thing  of  the  past, 
but  why  may  not  fair-minded  men  review  the  matter  calm- 
ly and  concede  that  incalculable  good  has  come  out  of  it  for 
the  negro?  The  salvation  of  the  African  continent  is  likely 
to  grow  out  of  American  slavery.  God,  who  sees  the  end 
from  the  beginning,  had  a  great  and  benevolent  purpose  in 
it,  and  in  time  that  purpose  will  be  made  more  and  more 
clear.  With  all  the  evils  connected  with  slavery,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  good  greatly  exceeded,  and  that  the  people 
enslaved  were  the  chief  beneficiaries.  The  English  and 
Yankee  slave-tradei-s,  we  may  well  believe,  had  no  humane 
object  in  view,  but  we  cannot  now  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact 
that  good  to  the  negro  and  to  Africa  has  come  out  of  their 
sordid  traffic." 


mmm  xn. 

TWELVE  YEARS  AN  EDITOR. 


THE  New  Orleans  Christian  Advocate  began  its  existence 
in  February,  1851,  by  the  joint  action  of  the  Alabama 
and  Louisiana  Conferences.  The  Rev.  H.  N.  McTyeire, 
then  pastor  of  the  Felicity  Street  Church,  was  made  editor, 
and  the  pajjer  at  once  took  rank  as  one  of  the  most  influen- 
tial journals  in  Southern  Methodism.  He  presided  over  its 
columns  with  masterly  skill  and  ability  until  1858,  when 
he  was  elected  by  the  General  Conferenc&editor  of  the  Nash- 
ville Chrutian  Advocate.  His  successor  in  the  office  at  New 
Orleans  was  the  Rev.  C.  C.  Gillespie,  who  for  several  years 
had  been  editor  of  the  Texas  Christian  Advocate  at  Galves- 
ton. He  had  eminent  literary  gifts,  and  his  polished  edito- 
rials displayed  wide  versatility  of  genius.  But  with  the 
outbreak  of  the  civil  war,  and  the  early  surrender  of  New 
Orleans  to  the  Federal  forces,  the  Christian  Advocate  sus- 
pended publication,  and  its  brilliant  editor  went  to  the  tent- 
ed field  as  the  gallant  colonel  of  a  fine  regiment.  In  1865, 
after  the  alarms  of  war  had  died  away  and  the  avocations 
of  peace  were  resumed,  Dr.  J.  C.  Keener  revived  the  Chris- 
tian Advocate,  and  became  its  vigorous,  versatile  editor. 
Through  this  medium  he  rallied  the  scattered  tribes  of  our 
Israel  in  the  South-west,  and  largely  aided  in  restoring  their 
ecclesiastical  autonomy.  His  editorship  embraced  that  try- 
ing reconstruction  period  from  1865  to  1870,  which  wit- 
nessed the  transference  of  war  passions  into  party  aggres- 
sion.    The  times  demanded  an  apostle  of  courage  and  sel^ 

"    (99) 


100  The  Editor-Hisiiop. 

confidence,  and  he  was  not  found  wanting.  His  editorials 
had  the  epigrammatic  freshness  of  Prentice  and  the  sturdy- 
strength  of  Carlyle — that  master  of  letters  who  has  been 
facetiously  denominated  "a  trip-hammer  with  an  ^>olian 
attachment." 

When  Dr.  Keener  was  called  to  the  episcopal  office  by 
the  General  Conference  of  1870,. the  Publishing  Committee 
of  the  New  Orleans  Christian  Advocate  unanimously  elected 
Dr.  Linus  Parker  as  his  successor.  In  January,  18()6,  he 
had  returned  to  the  city  and  to  the  pulpit  at  Felicity.  Of 
that  pastoral  year  he  writes : 

"  We  were  glad  to  see  the  city  once  more,  and  I  was  cor- 
dially welcomed  back  to  my  old  pastorate.  I  opened  my 
ministry  with  the  text:  'As  for  me  I  will  behold  thy  face  in 
righteousness:  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  in  thy 
likeness.'  (Ps.  xxii.  15.)  I  was  refreshed  by  the  sight  of  old 
friends,  but  some  were  no  more  of  earth. 

"  The  General  Conference  met  the  first  Wednesday  in 
April,  in  Carondelet  Street  Church.  The  session,  lasting 
about  one  month,  was  one  of  great  interest  and  importance. 
My  charge  was  moderately  prosperous  this  year;  a  number 
of  new  members  were  added,  and  a  good  many  wanderers 
were  hunted  up  and  reclaimed." 

In  that  charge  he  remained  until  called  to  edit  the  paper 
to  which  he  had  contributed  regularly  from  the  days  of  his 
early  ministry.  His  succession  to  that  office  was  generally 
expected  and  universally  applauded. 

As  a  journalist  Bishop  Parker  was  best  known  to  Con- 
nectional  Methodism.  For  twelve  years  he  presided  over 
the  columns  of  the  Christian  Advocate  with  such  distin- 
guished ability  that  he  increased  the  high  character  it  had 
already  achieved  under  his  illustrious  predecessors.  He  was 
preeminently  a  rellf/ions  journalist,  and  nearly  all  of  his  ed- 
itorials wei-e  on  strictly  spiritual  .subjects.      He  eschewed 


TwKLVK  Years  an  Editor.  101 

both  dogmatism  and  latitudinarianism,  and  aspired  to  be 
neither  sensational  nor  partisan.  He  sought  diligently  the 
"  old  paths,"  and  had  no  ambition  to  be  an  inventor  or  ad- 
venturer in  ecclesiastical  or  theological  science.  His  aim 
waa  to  be  neither  sectional  nor  sectarian,  but  catholic  and 
Connectional.  "  Food  convenient "  for  spiritual  nurture  he 
prepared  with  anxious  care  and  earnest  prayer.  His  su- 
preme thought  in  the  conduct  of  his  columns  was  to  honor 
God  and  help  his  readers  to  a  higher  spiritual  life.  The 
divine  purpose  ever  in  view,  as  he  sent  forth  the  Christian 
Advocate  on  its  weekly  visit,  is  best  told  in  his  own  words: 
"  Not  what  we  would  like,  nor  always  what  we  think  best 
for  ourselves,  but  what  will  do  our  readers  the  most  good,  is 
the  uppermost  thought — something  to  meet  their  spiritual, 
mental,  and  social  wants,  and  help  them  to  holy  and  happy 
lives,  is  our  constant  study.  Scholars  and  philosophers  are 
comparatively  few ;  the  preachers  are  not  numerous  as  com- 
pared with  the  people.  A  crumb  now  and  then  for  them  is 
well,  but  the  mission  of  the  Christian  Advocate  is  to  the  peo- 
ple and  their  homes.  We  try  to  make  it  a  wholesome, 
faithful,  and  acceptable  visitor  to  them,  putting  into  it  just 
such  matter  and  in  such  proportions  as  shall  best  serve  this 
purpose.  These  years  of  care  and  labor  would  be  well  re- 
paid if  even  in  a  few  instances  the  Christian  Advocate  has 
led  sinners  to  Christ,  helped  believers  to  a  better  and  deeper 
experience,  and  brought  comfort  to  the  bereaved  and  strick- 
en. As  our  thousands  of  readers  come  up  before  us  we 
think  of  the  time  when  God  shall  bring  every  secret  thing 
into  judgment,  and  when  'the  fire  shall  try  every  man's 
work  of  what  sort  it  is.'  May  those  who  read  and  those 
who  write  be  clear  in  that  day!  In  view  of  this  responsi- 
bility, we  would  endeavor  to  build  up  the  personal  piety  of 
our  readers,  to  break  up  the  fallow-ground,  and  to  urge 
each  one  to  repentance,  faith,  and  holiness." 


102  The  EDixoR-Jiisnop. 


His  "leaders"  were  models  of  pure  English  and  elevated 
thought.  No  writer  in  American  Methodism  excelled  him 
in  finish  and  limpid  purity  of  style.  Dwelling  himself 
among  the  higher  spiritualities,  his  writings  were  eloquent 
and  redolent  with  the  voice  and  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
The  following  extract  from  the  writer's  salutatory  as  his 
successor  in  the  editorship,  expressed  a  hope  that  has  found 
grateful  fruition  through  the  intervening  years: 

"  The  seeming  embarrassment  of  immediately  succeeding 
one  so  successful  and  distinguished  is  fully  appreciated;  but 
that  embarrassment  is  only  seeming;  it  is  a  help  and  not  a 
hinderance,  an  inspiration  and  not  a  discouragement.  The 
high  character  his  great  abilities  gave  this  journal  will  con- 
ceal many  deficiencies.  The  momentum  he  gave  it  will  long 
keep  the  machinery  in  action  with  a  less  skillful  hand  at 
the  wheel.  On  every  page  will  be  reflected  the  genial  ex- 
pression of  his  well-known  face,  and  every  damp  sheet  fresh 
from  the  press  will  infold  the  aroma  of  his  kindly,  generous 
spirit." 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

THREE  YEARS  A  BISHOP. 


QOUTHERN  Methodism  has  been  singularly  favored  in 
"k)  the  selection  of  her  chief  pastors.  They  have  possessed 
every  variety  of  talent — the  widest  diversity  of  gifts — but  the 
same  spirit.  In  one  the  genius  and  prescience  of  the  eccle- 
siastical statesman  was  prominent ;  in  another,  the  clear  dis- 
cernment and  calm  deliberation  of  the  great  jurist;  in  yet 
another,  the  magnetic  orator  and  model  preacher;  and  all 
these  in  great  variety.  But  each  had  the  same  spirit  of 
profound  consecration  to  the  office  and  work  of  the  gospel 
ministry.  Not  one  proved  faithless  to  his  high  commission, 
and  each  went  up  to  his  reward  without  a  blur  on  his  name 
or  a  stain  on  his  shield.  Great  in  their  consecrated  gifts 
and  culture,  they  were  glorious  in  the  peerless  purity  of 
their  lives.  In  this  Pantheon  of  apostolic  chieftains  must 
now  be  placed  the  name  of  Bishop  Linus  Parker.  His  epis- 
copate was  short,  embracing  just  the  period  of  our  Lord's 
active  earthly  ministry,  but  was  no  less  faithful  and  honor- 
able than  those  of  his  illustrious  predecessors  and  colleagues. 
Life  cannot  be  measured  by  length  of  days. 

The  dials  of  earth  may  show 
The  length  not  the  depth  of  years. 

Dr.  Parker's  elevation  to  the  episcopal  office  was  not  of 
his  own  seeking  or  consent.  He  kindly  but  emphatically 
declined  to  hear  any  suggestions  on  the  subject  from  special 
friends,  and  assured  them  of  his  greater  love  for  the  quiet 
editorial  chair  or  the  work  of  a  pastor.     Nor  was  his  elec- 

(103) 


104  The  Editor-Bishop. 

tion  the  result  of  some  special  or  brilliant  achievement  of 
his — a  sermon  of  thrilling  power  on  some  grand  occasion,  a 
General  Conference  speech  on  an  important  question,  or 
some  ringing  paper  evidencing  the  grasp  and  greatness  of  a 
parliamentary  leader.  It  was  the  calm,  deliberate  judgment 
of  his  brethren,  who  knew  him  well  and  recognized  his  emi- 
nent fitness  for  the  responsible  office.  So  when  the  General 
Conference  of  1882  met  in  the  city  of  Nashville,  it  was  gen- 
erally understood  by  the  Church  at  large  that  if  the  episco- 
pacy was  to  be  strengthened,  Dr.  Parker  would  be  one  of  the 
elect. 

Nor  was  the  judgment  of  the  Church  misplaced.  His 
qualifications  for  the  office  were  evident  and  eminent.  He 
was  a  loyal  lover  of  Methodism  both  in  doctrine  and  polity. 
He  was  hopeful  for  the  Church.  Though  readily  recogniz- 
ing dangers  and  evils,  and  bravely  warning  and  exhorting 
against  them,  he  was  no  sour  pessimist,  idly  lamenting  that 
the  former  times  were  better  than  these.  He  was  self-sacri- 
ficing. There  was  no  desire  or  disposition  to  spare  himself. 
He  entered  upon  the  duties  of  his  office  with  an  unreserved 
consecration  of  purpose  and  energy.  To  him  the  voice  of 
the  Church  was  the  voice  of  God.  He  traveled  much, 
preached  frequently,  and  did  all  the  work  of  a  Methodist 
bishop.  The  burdens  of  the  office  oppressed  him,  and  the 
care  of  the  churches  was  a  constant  strain  upon  his  sympa- 
thies. In  the  "  station ing-room,"  Avhere  the  laborers  were 
distributed  over  the  field,  he  earnestly  sought  divine  guid- 
ance, and  keenly  felt  the  possible  privations  of  each  preach- 
er. With  an  almost  unerring  intuition,  he  was  a  ready  dis- 
cerner  of  the  spirits  of  men.  He  gauged  the  "gifts  and 
graces"  of  his  preachers  with  prayerful  precision,  and  made 
their  appointments  in  the  immediate  presence  of  God.  Gen- 
tle and  sympathetic,  he  was  yet  inflexible  in  purpose  and 
courageous  in  the  discharge  of  duty.     He  was  dignified 


Three  Years  a  Bisuor.  105 

without  austerity,  and  affable  witliout  familiarity.  At  the 
Conferences  and  elsewhere  he  was  the  same  genial,  modest, 
companionable  man  as  a  bishop  that  he  was  in  the  quiet 
pastorate  or  in  the  editorial  chair.  If  long  life  had  been 
granted,  he  would  have  grown  upon  the  Church  as  a  wise 
administrator  and  worthy  successor  of  the  apostolic  men 
whose  historic  names  are  a  precious,  priceless  heritage  to 
American  Methodism. 

The  first  two  years  of  his  episcopate  were  spent  in  Texas, 
and  to  the  Texans  he  became  warmly  attached.  It  was 
doubtless  his  purpose  to  secure  a  permanent  residence  in 
that  State,  though  many  other  and  flattering  invitations 
were  extended  him.  His  letters  to  the  New  Orleans  Chris- 
tian Advocate  from  Texas  indicated  how  thoroughly  he  had 
studied  the  necessities  and  possibilities  of  that  vast  field, 
and  with  what  eager  interest  he  marked  its  rapid  develop- 
opment.  He  found  especial  pleasure  in  the  work  on  the 
Mexican  border,  and  talked  delightfully  of  his  experiences 
there.  And  it  was  a  beautiful  expression  of  their  grateful 
regard  when  the  members  of  the  Mexican  Border  Mission 
Conference,  at  its  last  session,  sent  a  free-will  offering  to  the 
"Parker  Memorial  Church"  in  New  Orleans,  which  is  to 
bear  the  Bishop's  name  and  perpetuate  his  fame.  In  a  gen- 
erous, eulogistic  mention  of  his  death,  character,  and  public 
services,  the  Texas  Chridian  Advocate  concludes: 

"His  first  two  years  of  episcopal  labor  were  spent  in 
Texas,  where  by  his  courtesy,  his  faithfulness,  his  humility, 
his  modesty,  his  firmness,  his  abounding  charity,  and  his 
ability  in  the  pulpit  and  on  the  platform,  he  proved  himself 
well  fitted  for  the  office  and  work  of  bishop  in  the  Church 
of  God.  His  death  after  one  year»  more  of  such  labor 
seems  to  us  a  strange  providence.  He  was  not  worn  by  ago 
nor  enfeebled  by  disease.  He  was  in  the  full  possession  of 
all   his  i)hysical  and   iscntal  powers.     AVhy  was  he  not 


106  The  EDixou-Biaiior. 


spared  to  perform,  for  many  years  to  come,  the  duties  of 
that  high  office  which  he  had  thus  far  filled  with  such  great 
usefulness  and  distinguished  ability?  It  may  be  that  God 
would  teach  us  how  little  he  needs  the  best  human  counsel 
and  the  strongest  human  arm.  He  buries  his  workmen  but 
carries  on  the  work." 

His  third  episcopal  tour  embraced  the  Conferences  in  Mis- 
souri, and  the  North  Carolina,  Mississippi,  and  Baltimore 
Conferences.  This  round  had  been  completed  except  the 
lasf,  and  he  was  about  starting  for  that  when  the  summons 
came,  and  he  entered  his  Master's  joy.  Everywhere  his  la- 
bors gave  the  fullest  satisfaction  and  lefl  a  fragrant  memory. 
The  Raleigh  Oiristian  Advocate,  speaking  for  the  brethren 
of  the  old  North  State,  said :  "  No  man  ever  impressed  him- 
self so  favorably  and  so  indelibly  upon  our  Conference  in  so 
short  a  time  as  did  Bishop  Parker."  At  the  Mississippi, 
one  of  the  old  patronizing  Conferences  of  the  New  Orleans 
Christian  Advocate,  and  to  which  he  had  sustained  official 
and  personal  relations  for  so  many  years,  he  was  enthusiast- 
ically welcomed  and  highly  honored.  That  was  the  last 
Conference  over  which  he  ])resided,  and  the  preachers  who 
had  been  so  long  and  faithfully  fed  and  edified  by  his  fruit- 
ful pen  were  the  last  to  be  recommissioned  by  his  episcopal 
hand.  From  that  Conference  he  returned  to  New  Orleans 
to  spend  a  rest  season  with  his  family  until  the  meeting  of 
the  Baltimore  Conference.  It  proved  to  be  a  rest  from  his 
loved  employ — an  eternal  rest  in  the  home  of  the  glorified. 


mmm  m. 

PERSONAL  TRAITS  AND  KHARAGTERISTIgS. 


BISHOP  PARKER  was  a  man  of  commanding  presence. 
Standing  erect,  six  feet  or  more,  with  a  large,  well-j^uit 
frame,  comfortably  and  handsomely  cushioned  with  flesh, 
he  was  a  fine  specimen  of  manly  beauty.  The  expression 
of  his  bright  black  eye  blended  at  once  the  flash  of  intelli- 
gence and  the  glance  of  love.  It  evidenced  keen,  clear  pene- 
tratior  and  a  gentle,  benignant  disposition.  His  forehead 
was  broad  and  massive,  the  seat  of  calm  deliberation  and 
ponderous  thought.  His  movements  were  deliberate,  an 
index  to  the  smooth,  even  action  of  his  mental  machinery. 
There  were  no  quick,  jerky  steps  in  his  walk,  nor  was  there 
any  "  lost  motion "  in  the  well-regulated  enginery  of  his 
mind.  It  had  not  the  action  of  a  little  "  dummy,"  with  its 
rapidly  revolving  wheels,  but  rather  the  majestic  movement 
of  a  great  Corliss  engine,  whose  strides  are  like  the  tread 
of  another  fabled  Jupiter,  turning  thousands  of  feet  of 
shafting  without  apparent  strain  or  effort.  True  poetry,  it 
is  said,  is  born,  not  made.  It  flows  with  scarcely  more 
effort  than  a  silvery  stream  sings  along  its  pebbly  channel 
borne  by  the  fountain's  exhaustless  tide.  And  Ruskin  has 
applied  this  thought  to  all  mental  operations.  He  says  "  no 
great  intellectual  thing  was  ever  done  by  great  effort." 
Though  not  accepting  the  truth  of  that  statement,  of  Bish- 
op Parker  it  may  be  said  that  his  finest  thoughts,  both  as 
preacher  and  journalist,  seemed  to  be  produced  without 
labor.    His  most  polished  and  powerful  editorials  were  writ- 

(107) 


108  The  Editok-Bishop. 

ten  raiiidly  and  with  apparently  perfect  ease.  The  first  draft 
of  an  article  was  ready  for  the  printer  without  revision  or 
emendation. 

Another  distinguished  characteristic  was  his  singular 
modesty  and  unaffected  sincerity.  He  coveted  a  quiet  min- 
istry, and  shrunk  from  conspicuous  position.  His  promo- 
tion resulted  from  the  persistent  power  of  great  merit, 
though  against  his  own  sincere  protest.  He  always  thought 
more  highly  of  others  than  of  himself,  and  found  pleasure 
in«their  success.  He  was  perfectly  transparent — the  light 
shone  through  at  every  pore.  He  had  no  hidden  motives, 
no  ominous  concealments,  no  diplomatic  reserve.  Envy 
and  jealousy  found  no  place  to  plant  a  foot  in  his  generous 
bosom;  hence  the  loving  devotion  of  his  old  Conference 
comrades.  He  was  beautifully  innocent  of  ecclesiastical 
politics.  He  never  projected  plans  nor  abetted  schemes  for 
personal  or  ulterior  reasons,  for  he  neither  had  enemies  to 
punish  nor  selfish  friends  to  reward.  His  brethren  honored 
him  against  his  own  judgment  and  desires.  When  Cente- 
nary College  conferred  upon  him  the  honorary  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Divinity,  he  considered  it  more  modest  to  accept 
than  decline  the  flattering  distinction.  More  than  once, 
with  characteristic  humility,  did  he  remark  to  friends  that 
he  feared  the  Church  made  a  mistake  in  his  election  to  the 
episcopacy.  But  her  call  was  to  him  the  will  of  God,  and 
he  obeyed  with  apostolic  fervor  and  zeal. 

Bishop  Parker  was  an  humble,  symmetrical  Christian. 
He  was  one  of  the  finest  products  of  Methodist  culture. 
He  had  a  rich  experience  and  a  ready  testimony.  In  the 
class-meeting  he  loved  to  sit,  and  was  generally  the  first  to 
speak,  though  in  few  words  and  with  becoming  modesty.  On 
his  rounds  of  episcopal  visitation  he  never  failed  to  attend 
the  Conference  love-feast  and  witness  to  the  regenerating  and 
sanctifying  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost.    There  were  no  gaps  or 


Personal  Traits  and  Characteristics.       109 

chasms,  uo  abrupt  heights  or  dark  gorges,  in  his  re^ious 
life.  "Whatever  were  his  inward  conflicts,  he  seemed  to  be 
ascending  a  regular  incline.  There  was  no  demonstration, 
no  ostentation,  but  a  calm,  constant,  blessed  glorying  in  the 
cross.  His  light  burned  with  a  steady  flame.  To  outward 
seeming  there  was  no  eclipse — no,  not  even  an  obscuring 
cloud.  And  in  the  grace  of  humility  he  had  preeminence. 
It  adorned  and  beautified  his  private  life  and  public  ministry. 

Bishop  Parker  was  conspicuous  for  his  generous,  catJi^Ue 
spirit  Every  good  cause  found  in  him  a  helpful  friend,  and 
every  Christian  a  brother  beloved.  No  narrow  iuclosure 
of  ecclesiasticism  could  confine  the  wealth  of  his  fervent 
sympathies.  Though  well  defined  in  his  convictions — theo- 
logical and  ecclesiastical — and  abundantly  able  to  defend 
them,  he  was  neither  a  partisan  nor  a  sectarian.  For  con- 
troversy he  had  no  taste,  but  a  real  aversion.  Born  of  this 
broad  catholicity  were  his  generous  judgments.  He  had  a 
genius  for  discerning  and  commending  the  better  elements 
in  every  character,  and  had  an  almost  divine  forgetfulness 
of  deficiencies  and  unavoidable  errors.  Never  condoning 
wrong,  he  loved  to  discover  and  applaud  the  right.  In  a 
long  and  intimate  acquaintance  I  never  heard  from  him  an 
unkind  criticism  or  an  unsanctified  judgment  of  another. 
And  yet  withal  he  had  the  fearless  courage  of  a  hero  and 
the  unflinching  purpose  of  a  martyr.  Together  with  this, 
and  of  which  it  had  birth,  was  a  spirit  of  singular  devout- 
ness.  It  threw  a  strange  charm  over  his  life,  and  gave  him 
peculiar  power  in  personal  intercourse.  A  distinguished 
minister  thus  writes: 

"There  was  no  conventional  devoutness  about  the  Bish- 
op, but  it  came  from  a  heart  animated  and  warmed  by  the 
fires  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  there  was  a  peculiar  contagion 
about  it  that  made  one  feel  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  man 
that  held  kinship  and  communion  with  the  Father." 


110  The  Editob-Bishop. 

H^vas  a  man  of  much  pj'ayer.  He  frequented  the  holy 
of  holies,  and  understood  what  is  meant  by  a  "sweet  hour 
of  prayer."  And  he  offered  the  prayer  of  faith.  The  fol- 
lowing was  related  by  Hev.  Dr.  J.  B.  Walker,  presiding 
elder  of  the  New  Orleans  District  and  the  Bishop's  life- 
long friend,  in  his  eloquent  funeral-address: 

"  I  remember  an  incident  that  illustrates  this  character- 
istic of  our  beloved  friend.  It  occurred  during  the  fearful 
epidemic  of  1878.  Our  esteemed  Brother  Mathews,  as 
many  of  us  well  remember,  was  stricken  with  a  second  re- 
lapse of  yellow  fever.  Brother  Parker  called  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  critical  day.  He  met  the  attending  physician, 
who  remarked:  'Brother  Mathews  will  die,  for  I  have 
never  heard  of  a  man  recovering  from  a  second  relapse  of 
yellow  fever.'  Brother  Parker  said  to  the  doctor:  'Go 
back  to  his  bedside  and  exert  yourself  to  the  utmost  of 
your  ability,  and  I  will  go  to  the  parlor  and  pray  God  to 
spare  his  life.'  For  over  two  hours  did  Bishop  Parker  plead 
with  God  to  grant  this  favor;  and  on  his  approaching  the 
sick-chamber  the  physician  met  him  and  said :  *  There  is  a 
marvelous  change  in  Brother  Mathews.  It  was  not  wrought 
by  human  skill;  it  is  the  hand  of  God,'" 

Bishop  Parker  was  a>i  eminently  wise  counselor.  He  pos- 
sessed an  even  poise  of  character  that  exempted  him  from 
partisan  bias  or  prejudice.  This  enabled  him  to  look  at  all 
sides  of  a  question  and  render  an  unclouded,  unprejudiced 
opinion.  I  have  known  no  man  whose  counsel  was  more 
frequently  sought,  and  Avhose  judgments  were  so  readily  and 
entirely  accepted. 

He  was  an  able  preacher.  As  a  sermonizer,  he  stood 
among  the  first  in  our  pulpit.  His  style  was  expository  and 
eminently  practical.  He  opened  the  Scriptures  to  the  peo- 
ple with  a  rare,  luminous  exegesis,  and  was  peculiarly  hap- 
py in  discovering  the  hidden  meaning  of  a  text.    He  dwelt 


Personal  Thaits  and  Characteristics.       Ill 

on  great  spiritual  themes,  and  studiously  eschewed  all  mere 
speculation  and  parade  of  learning  in  the  pulpit.  It  was 
his  profound  conviction  that  the  best  cure  for  doubt  and  the 
surest  corrective  of  scientific  skepticism  was  positive  gospel 
preaching.  And  all  his  ministrations  had  the  aroma  of  the 
closet  and  the  overshadowing  of  the  Almighty.  Living 
much  and  intimately  with  his  Lord,  he  testified  of  that 
which  he  knew,  and  with  a  confidence  that  carried  convic- 
tion. Without  the  talisnianic  gifts  and  graces  of  the  ora- 
tor, never  soaring  into  the  doubtful  realm  of  popular  elo- 
quence, he  was  an  instructive,  analytical,  suggestive,  pro- 
found preacher,  righthj  dividing  the  word  of  truth.  And 
the  oftener  he  was  heard  the*  more  he  was  appreciated. 
His  was  a  vast  treasury  of  spiritual  knowledge,  and  out  of 
it  he  always  brought  something  fresh  and  savory — "  food 
convenient"  for  the  nourishment  and  enrichment  of  the 
people.  In  this  aspect  of  his  ministry  he  strikingly  resem- 
bled Canon  Liddon  and  Dr.  Joseph  Parker,  of  London. 
He  was  not  what  is  technically  known  as  a  revivalist,  but 
he  emphasized  the  old  Methodist  methods  and  reported  large 
ingatherings.  Logic,  learning,  and  unction  beautifully 
blended  in  his  amplification  of  a  subject,  and  often  with 
inmiediate,  mighty  results.  Every  year  he  conducted  a  long 
protracted  meeting,  doing  most  of  the  preaching  himself, 
and  had  the  gratification  of  seeing  scores  joyfully  converted 
to  God.  At  camp-meetings  he  was  diligent  in  the  altar, 
instructing  penitents  and  rejoicing  with  the  redeemed. 

His  home-life  was  beautiful.  In  that  inner  sacred  circle 
his  gentle  virtues  shed  a  fragance  sweet  as  the  breath  of 
heaven.  Of  strong  domestic  attachments,  he  found  the 
hearth-stone  his  earthly  paradise.  Among  the  hardest  tri- 
als of  the  episcopacy  were  his  necessary  and  long  absences 
from  home.  An  ideal  husband  and  a  fond,  considerate 
father,  he  illustrated  the  harmony  and  consistency  of  faith- 


112  The  Editor-Bishop. 

ful  public  service  with  the  holiest  domestic  duty  and  happi- 
jiess.  His  three  sons — John  Burruss,  Fitzgerald  Sale,  and 
Frank  Nutting — with  their  mother,  treasure  the  sweetest 
memories  of  his  amiable,  beautiful  life.  The  two  younger 
sons  have  recently  entered  the  Louisiana  Conference,  fol- 
lowing the  footsteps  of  their  illustrious  father.  Through 
them,  he  being  dead,  will  yet  speak. 


gHiPTER  M. 

LAST  HOnRS  AND  BURIAL 


ON  Sunday  morning,  March  1,  he  preached  to  his  beloved 
little  flock  at  Louisiana  Avenue,  New  Orleans,  from  the 
text,  "I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ;  for  it 
is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  be- 
lieveth :  to  the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Greek."  After 
the  sermon,  which  was  characteristic  in  freshness  and  spir- 
itual power,  there  was  a  most  impressive  and  delightful 
communion-service.  That  was  the  Bishop's  last  sermon, 
and  doubtless  if  his  own  desires  had  been  expressed  he 
would  not  have  ordered  it  otherwise.  He  would  have 
sought  that  modest  little  chapel  to  deliver  his  last  will  and 
testament.  At  night  he  attended  service  at  St.  Charles 
Avenue  with  his  family,  and  was  a  helpful  hearer  of  the 
sermon  preached  by  the  pastor,  Rev.  Beverly  Carradine. 
And  what  a  hearer  he  was!  Not  critical,  not  censorious, 
but  prayerful,  sympathetic,  attentive,  encouraging.  On 
Monday  he  came  down  in  the  city,  and  spent  two  hours  or 
more  at  the  Advocate  office.  He  was  never  more  genial  and 
companionable,  and  talked  cheerfully  of  his  work,  the  Bal- 
timore Conference  he  was  to  attend  in  a  few  days,  and  his 
long  line  of  District  Conferences  during  the  year.  Again  on 
Tuesday  he  came  down  to  Camp  street,  and,  as  was  his  habit, 
walked  all  the  way  home,  a  distance  of  three  miles.  Dur- 
ing the  night  he  suffered  great  pain  in  one  ear,  but  after 
the  application  of  some  simple  remedies  relief  was  given, 
and  he  fell  asleep,  resting  comfortably  till  the  afternoon  of 
8  (113) 


114  The  Editor-Bishop. 

"Wednesday.  There  was  no  apprehension  on  his  part  or  his 
family's  that  any  serious  illness  would  result;  but  as  his 
symptoms  seemed  not  to  improve  in  the  afternoon,  a  phy- 
sician was  summoned,  who  arrived  about  seven  o'clock. 
Mrs,  Parker  met  him  in  the  parlor,  and  explained  the  case 
in  a  few  words,  her  entire  absence  from  the  »oom  occupying 
not  more  than  five  minutes;  but  a  fatal  congestion  had 
seized  him,  and  when  they  returned  the  Bishop  was  uncon- 
scious, and  never  again  uttered  a  word  or  gave  a  sign  of 
recognition.  In  that  condition  he  lingered  until  Thursday 
afternoon  at  half-past  six  o'clock,  when  the  silver  cord  was 
loosed,  and  the  glorified  spirit  ascended  to  the  house  of 
many  mansions.  During  the  day  the  preachers  in  the  city 
came  and  went,  with  softened  step  and  anxious  hearts,  to 
inquire  after  their  beloved  co-laborer  and  revered  chief  pas- 
tor. Fervent  prayers  were  offered  that  our  Father  might 
spare  his  precious  life,  but  he  chose  to  crown  him  early. 
When  he  ceased  to  breathe,  for  a  moment  there  was  a  holy 
calm  in  the  room.  Not  a  word  was  spoken,  not  a  sigh  was 
heard.  There  seemed  to  be  the  vanishing  sweep  of  wings 
and  the  faint,  distant  echo  of  an  unearthly  music.  At  length 
the  silence  was  broken  by  Kev.  T.  B.  White,  who  said,  "The 
Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away."  Dr.  John 
Mathews  said,  "  He  has  fought  a  good  fight,  and  kept  the 
faith."  Some  one  then  observed,  "It  is  a  fitting  time  to 
pray;"  and  at  once  all  knelt  around  the  sleeping  Bishop,  and 
Dr.  Mathews  fervently  led  in  the  devotions.  How  strik- 
ingly descriptive  of  his  own  death-scene  are  the  words  of 
his  pen  in  an  editorial  entitled  "Our  Friends  in  Heaven:" 
"  The  death  of  one  very  dear  to  us  seems  to  rend  the  veil 
that  our  faith  had  not  hitherto  quite  penetrated,  and  the 
line  of  separation  between  earth  and  heaven,  however  nar- 
row it  was,  becomes  less  now.  .  .  .  We  cannot  but  follow 
the  spirit,  just  now  breathing  in  our  ears  the  words  of  a 


Last  Hours  and  Burial.  115 

loving  good-by,  as  it  moves  out  into  the  mysteries  and  sub- 
limities of  the  better  life.  Surely  heaven  is  not  any  more 
a  bright  abstraction,  nor  the  subject  of  speculative  thought 
nor  of  curious  imaginings.  It  becomes  as  real  as  our  own 
souls,  and  it  is  brought  as  near  to  us,  and  is  as  clearly  dis- 
cerned, as  our  own  heart-throbs.  .  .  .  And  thus  it  comes  to 
pass  that  this  ordeal  of  affliction,  under  the  ministry  of 
grace,  gives  the  highest  touches  and  finish  to  the  heavenly- 
mindedness  of  the  children  of  God.  It  sets  the  riches  of 
grace  with  brilliants  and  gems  of  an  incomparable  luster." 

There  were  no  imposing  scenes  in  his  death.  He  was  not 
privileged  to  talk  with  friends  and  loved  ones  at  the  hour 
of  parting ;  but  such  a  life  needed  no  dying-testimony.  No 
triumphant  exclamation  then  uttered  could  have  given  so 
glorious  and  cloudless  an  assurance  of  his  heavenly  corona- 
tion as  the  stainless  beauty  of  his  daily  walk  and  conversation. 
He  did  not  have  to  secure  a  ticket  of  admission  at  the  gates 
of  the  celestial  city,  because  for  more  than  thirty  years  he 
had  carried  a  "  title  clear  "  to  a  fadeless  crown  and  an  in- 
corruptible inhoritance.  Every  day  he  caught  "reveal- 
ments  of  God's  paradise,"  and  lived  in  the  conscious  pres- 
ence of  the  Invisible. 

The  manner  of  his  death — so  quiet,  peaceful,  and  unim- 
posing — was  in  accord  with  his  modest,  reticent  disposition. 
Years  before,  he  wrote  as  follows : 

"There  is  something  unhealthful  and  morbid  in  the  love 
which  people  sometimes  have  for  death-bed  scenes.  It  is 
certain  that  the  Scriptures  do  not  countenance  nor  gratify 
any  extravagant  tendency  in  this  direction.  Neither  the 
truth  of  religion  nor  the  piety  of  the  saint  is  made  to  de- 
pend upon  these  phenomenal  manifestations.  If  the  Chris- 
tian dies  in  his  senses,  and  the  circumstances  of  his  death 
admit  of  it,  we  expect  to  find  peace  and  comfortable  assur- 
ance.    Christians  die  well,  and  there  is  sometimes  what  we 


116  The  Editor-Bishop. 

call  triumph — triumph  uttered,  dazzling  light,  wavy  forms, 
and  celestial  melody.  The  end  of  the  upright  is  peace ;  but 
the  death-scene  often  testifies  nothing,  and  we  are  thrown 
back  upon  the  holy  life  and  the  promises  for  assurance  that 
'all  is  well.'  Chalmers  died  alone,  in  the  still  watches  of 
healthful  repose.  Fletcher  and  Toplady,  whose  polemic 
lances  had  often  crossed,  died  almost  seraphically.  In  the 
death  of  eminent  saints  something  remarkable  is  often 
looked  for  and  not  realized.  The  chariot  and  horses  of  fire 
come,  but  not  with  observation.  They  are  carried  home, 
but  they  glide  noiselessly  away.  The  wind  that  fills  the 
parting  sail  is  not  felt  by  those  who  linger  on  the  shore. 
How  we  should  choose  to  die  is  best  left  to  God.  It  mat- 
ters little,  so  we  are  ready.  Happy  dying  may  not  be  con- 
sciously for  all,  but  substantially  it  is  for  every  Christian. 
If  death  is  a  narrow  stream,  it  grows  narrower  as  we  ap- 
])roach  the  brink,  until  what  we  supposed  to  be  the  turbid 
flood  is  left  behind.  We  have  looked  for  death,  but  have 
pa&sed  it  without  recognizing  the  fact.  'Verily,  verily  I 
say  unto  you.  If  a  man  keep  my  sayings  he  shall  never  see 
death.' " 

He  was  buried  from  St.  Charles  Avenue  Church,  where 
his  family  worship,  and  which  is  but  a  square  from  their 
residence.  The  funeral-services  were  held  at  three  o'clock 
on  Friday  afternoon.  Long  before  the  hour  arrived  hun- 
dreds came  by  every  line  of  cars,  and  filled  the  spacious 
temple.  The  pall-bearers  were  representatives  of  the  sev- 
eral Methodist  churches  in  the  city,  and  each  had  been  a 
special  friend  of  the  Bishop.  These  men  were  preceded  by 
all  the  ministers  resident  and  visiting  in  the  city.  The 
church  was  heavily  draped  with  crape,  and  just  in  the  rear 
of  the  pulpit  were  the  words,  "  Our  Beloved  Bishop."  With- 
in the  chancel  two  tables  were  covered  with  flowers  of  beau- 
tiful designs.     One  was  a  magnificent  arched  gate«way,  on 


Last  Hours  and  Burial.  117 

the  top  of  which  sat  a  white  dove  with  wings  spread  for 
flight.  The  gates  beueath  swung  back  and  stood  open, 
ready  for  the  triumphant  entrance  of  the  redeemed  of  the 
Lord.  The  other  was  a  large  cross  of  white  flowers,  with 
a  heart  and  anchor  on  either  side.  After  a  beautifully  ren- 
dered and  appropriate  voluntary  by  the  choir,  Dr.  John 
Mathews  read  the  ninetieth  Psalm.  Dr.  C.  W.  Carter  read 
the  lesson  from  Corinthians,  and  Rev.  S.  H.  Werlein  offered 
prayer.  Rev.  Beverly  Carradine  then  announced  the  seven 
hundred  and  thirty-ninth  hymn, 

Servant  of  God,  well  done! 
Rest  from  thy  loved  employ, 

which  was  sung  with  deep  emotion.  Dr.  J.  B.  Walker, 
presiding  elder  of  the  New  Orleans  District,  and  the  inti- 
mate friend  and  co-laborer  of  the  Bishop,  delivered  the  fu- 
neral-address. It  was  a  pathetic  portraiture  of  a  spotless 
character  and  glorified  comrade.  At  the  conclusion  of  this 
address  the  seven  hundred  and  sixteenth  hymn  was  read  by 
the  author.  At  the  cemetery  the  service  was  read  by  Dr. 
J.  B.  A.  Ahrens,  and  the  tomb  was  sealed  forever  from 
mortal  eyes.  Connectional  Methodism  wept  over  the  un- 
timely fall  of  a  noble,  heroic  leader,  and  the  churches  in 
New  Orleans,  where  his  life  was  mostly  spent,  sorrowed  for 
a  personal  friend  and  beloved  pastor.  In  that  narrower 
circle,  where  his  rare  virtues  shone  in  full  radiance,  he  was 
loved  to  devotion.  Old  and  young,  rich  and  poor,  mingled 
their  tears  over  his  bier,  and  thanked  God  for  his  beautiful 
life. 


K.ai£^^'£m£d^&iu^^ 


lis  WFifeiRHS. 


*-»?r^3P^p7^jf^^iyT^ 


(119) 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 


Requests  for  Bishop  Parker's  editorials  to  be  collected  in  book 
form  have  been  many  and  urgent,  and  from  the  chief  men  in  the 
Church,  Long  before  his  death,  admiring  readers  of  his  "leaders" 
in  the  New  Orleans  Christian  Advocate  pronounced  them  the  choicest 
gems  of  our  sacred  literature,  and  worthy  of  permanent  preservation. 
They  were  "food  convenient"  for  the  thousands  wlio  sat  at  liis  ta- 
ble week  after  week,  and  will  be  strengthening  meat  to  those  who 
may  read  these  pages.  It  is  hazarding  nothing  to  say,  no  man  in 
American  Methodism  wielded  a  more  polished  pen.  As  a  writer  he 
had  the  classic  elegance  of  Addison  perfumed  with  the  devotional 
spirit  of  Jeremy  Taylor.  Some  of  his  editorials  were  as  stately  as 
"  Corinthian  mold,"  and  others  as  beautiful  as  "  Doric  chiseling." 

In  the  following  compilation  the  editor  has  been  embarrassed 
most  of  all  with  wealth  of  material.  Bishop  Parker  was  a  diligent 
editor  for  twelve  consecutive  years,  and  a  regular  correspondent  of 
the  religious  press  during  his  entire  ministry.  He  left  sufficient 
"copy"  for  several  choice  volumes.  Those  selected  are  in  nowise 
superior  to  the  vast  number  rejected.  The  plan  of  the  compiler  de- 
termined the  selection  and,  not  exceptional  excellence.  Doubtless 
some  will  be  missed  that  were  specially  admired  and  remembered. 

In  these  editorials  the  reader  must  not  expect  an  elaborate  trea- 
tise on  any  subject.  The  function  of  the  weekly  newspaper  is  sug- 
gesti-e,  and  not  exhaustive.  Its  domain  is  distinct  and  apart  from 
the  magazine  or  review.  But  unless  the  critical  judgment  of  hun- 
dreds is  at  fault,  many  will  be  regarded  as  almost  perfect  pieces  of 
art.  For  lofty  spiritual  thought  and  literary  elegance,  they  are 
scarcely  equaled  in  their  sphere. 

(121) 


THE  PREACHER  CALLED. 


CALL  TO  THE  MINISTRY. 

THIS  may,  in  a  general  way,  be  defined  as  an  impression 
made  upon  the  mind  by  the  Holy  Spirit  that  it  is  a 
man's  duty  to  preach  the  gospel.  It  is  a  conviction  that 
comes  to  him,  a  strong  and  persistent  persuasion,  that  God 
would  have  him  devote  himself  to  this  particular  work. 
There  may  be  in  some  instances  an  anticipation  of  this  call 
before  conversion.  Especially  may  this  be  the  case  in 
young  men  who  have  been  reared  religiously.  In  their 
awakening  and  concern  for  their  souls,  the  realization  of 
peace  has  been  consciously  suspended  upon  a  complete  sub- 
mission to  the  will  of  God  in  this  regard.  With  them  con- 
version carried  along  with  it  the  vital  qualification  and  the 
fully  developed  call  to  preach.  We  have  known  such  cases. 
They  may  be  more  numerous  than  is  generally  supposed. 
The  rule,  however,  is  that  some  time  after  conversion  the 
conviction  comes  gradually  as  a  revelation  speaking  out  of 
the  depths  of  religious  experience,  and  confirmed  by  the 
development  of  gifts  and  graces  in  the  ordinary  path  of 
•Christian  life. 

There  are  sudden  conversions,  and  there  are  surprisingly 
sudden  revivals  of  spiritual  power  in  believers,  but  we  im- 
agine the  call  to  preach  is  usually  an  impression  of  the 
Spirit  that  has  a  faint  beginning,  and  that  by  slow  degrees 
grows  and  expands  until  all  doubt  is  dispelled.  Those  who 
have  this  impression  are  usually  disposed  to  resist  it,  and  to 
sift  the  matter  with  prayerful  concern.  It  is  well  that  they 
should  put  themselves  upon  a  rigorous  probation  of  self- 


124  The  Euitok-Bishop. 

imposed  watchfulness  and  thorough  self-examinatiou,  even 
when  tried  friends  are  forward  to  advise.  In  the  midst  of 
revival  influences  young  men  may  sometimes,  in  their  new- 
ly awakened  fervor,  conclude  that  they  are  called.  They 
have  never  thought  of  the  matter  until  then,  and  in  their 
zeal  the  ministry  seems  to  them  to  be  the  opening  for  their 
religious  activity.  In  some  instances  they  may  be  right; 
but  before  deciding  let  them  wait  until  they  have  tested 
themselves.  Perhaps  when  the  excitement  and  the  emotions 
enkindled  at  the  camp  or  protracted  meeting  have  subsid- 
ed, and  they  once  more  encounter  the  ordinary  conditions 
of  the  spiritual  conflict,  they  will  reach  the  conclusion  that 
they  are  simply  called  to  a  more  devoted  religious  life. 

All  that  we  insist  upon  is  that  young  men  move  with  de- 
liberation and  with  the  utmost  prayerfulness  in  this  direc- 
tion. With  them  there  can  be  no  visible.divine  manifesta- 
tion, nor  any  voice  to  the  ear,  as  in  the  call  of  Moses  and 
of  Paul.  The  secret  of  the  Lord,  however,  is  with  them 
that  fear  him,  and  there  need  be  no  mistake  if  we  move 
slowly  and  prayerfully. 

The  judgment  of  the  Church  will  always  have  its  weight 
with  those  who  have  the  right  spirit.  If  the  decision  be 
adveree  it  may  mean  delay,  or  it  may  indicate  that  the  in- 
dividual has  made  an  honest  mistake.  If  the  Church  per- 
sists in  its  belief  that  a  man  is  not  called  to  preach,  it  is  a 
strong  presumption  that  God  has  not  called  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  neither  Quarterly  nor  Annual  Conferences  are 
infallible.  Their  authorization  will  go  far  to  confirm  the 
applicant's  conviction.  Very  justly  it  contributes  much 
toward  the  settlement  of  the  question.  But  after  all,  the 
Church  is  sometimes  in  error,  and  the  young  licentiate  finds 
that  there  was  a  mistake  all  around.  The  man  must  be 
tried  by  the  Church  before  it  can  decide.  The  probabilities 
arising  from  character,  experience,  and  general  qualifica- 


The  Preacher  Called.  125 

tions  are  strong,  but  only  actual  preaching  can  determine 
the  possession  of  gifts,  grace,  and  usefulness.  There  can  be 
no  fruit  as  a  preacher  until  the  attempt  to  preach  is  made. 
Nor  can  a  man  be  fully  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  until  he 
tries  to  preach.  The  call,  previously  and  honestly  felt,  be- 
comes an  assured'  and  joyous  certainty  when  souls  are  con- 
certed and  when  the  baptism  of  love  and  power  is  poured 
upon  him  in  his  pulpit  ministrations.  The  call  to  preach 
is  often  reviewed  with  zealous  and  searching  rigor  by  preach- 
ers who  have  spent  years  in  the  ministry.  In  their  earlier 
ministry,  under  temptations  and  discouragements,  they  have 
wrestled  and  agonized  over  this  question. 

The  call  thus  has  its  various  stages — a  conviction  in  the 
mind  of  the  young  convert,  the  voice  of  the  Church  con- 
firming and  testing,  and  the  ministerial  experience  of  great- 
er or  less  duration.  There  should  be  no  unseemly  hurry  in 
those  who  feel  themselves  called  to  preach.  The  Lord  has 
done  without  them  a  long  time,  and  if  they  had  never  been 
bom  it  would  have  made  but  little  difference.  Be  as  sure 
as  possible  of  the  divine  call,  that  it  is  "not  of  blood,  nor 
of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God ;" 
and  then  honestly  accept  every  probationary  step,  until  es- 
tablished and  confirmed  in  the  glorious  but  fearfully  respon- 
sible work.  And  at  whatever  stage  in  the  process  of  trial, 
if  convinced  that  a  mistake  has  been  made,  have  the  cour- 
age to  retrace  your  steps. 

About  the  literary  and  theological  preparations  for  the 
ministry  we  have  little  to  say  beyond  this,  that  a  call  to 
preach  does  not  make  Ihem  unnecessary.  If  possible  they 
should  be  secured.  A  few  years  at  college  will  save  time 
and  double  the  fruit  of  most  ministers.  The  preacher  loses 
much  and  gains  nothing  by  starting  before  he  is  ready. 
Wesley's  eight  years  spent  in  the  university  were  a  saving 
of  time.     Etlucation  is  important,  but  with  a  fair  English 


126  The  Editor-Bishop. 

education  much  can  be  attained  in  our  itinerant  school. 
Good  preachers  have  been  and  still  can  be  made  without 
the  college  or  the  theological  seminary.  The  call  to  preach 
is  also  a  call  to  study ;  but  it  is  more  than  this — a  call  to  a 
life  of  labor,  of  self-denial,  and  ordinarily  of  poverty.  It 
is  not  a  divine  call  to  serve  rich  and  flourishing  stations, 
and  to  occupy  the  green  and  well-watered  fields,  but  to  go 
to  domestic  and  foreign  missions,  and  to  build  up  the  waste 
places.  There  is  in  the  Christian  life  no  self-renunciation 
equal  to  that  involved  in  the  call  to  preach.  Let  our  young 
men  count  the  cost,  and  be  sure  that  their  call  is  genuine. 

THE  MINISTERIAL  WOE. 

In  Paul's  case  this  woe  was  of  the  most  serious  import. 
Necessity  was  laid  upon  him  of  so  grave  a  character  that 
his  salvation  was  involved.  Of  all  the  fearful  things  which 
a  refusal  to  preach  the  gospel  might  have  inflicted  upon 
him,  the  loss  of  his  own  soul  was  that  which  he  had 
chiefly  in  his  mind.  Taking  all  the  circumstances  of  his 
conversion  and  call  to  the  apostleship  into  the  account,  but 
one  path  was  open  to  him.  He  was  so  unmistakably  put  into 
the  ministry  that  it  would  have  been  the  height  of  contuma- 
cy to  have  even  doubted  the  fact.  Disobedience  to  "  the 
heavenly  vision  "  would  have  placed  him  in  an  attitude  of 
rebellion  which  must  have  ended  in  his  eternal  ruin.  We 
might  hesitate  to  apply  Paul's  convictions  concerning  him- 
self to  all  who  in  the  ordinary  way  are  moved  to  preach. 
There  are  pains  and  penalties  attached  to  every  departure 
from  duty  in  the  religious  life,  and  this  self-evident  propo- 
sition applies  with  peculiar  force  to  the  obligations  of  the 
ministry.  To  resist  or  to  evade  the  impression  that  a  dis- 
pensation of  the  gospel  is  committed  to  us  may  not  in  every 
case  lead  to  the  absolute  forfeiture  of  eternal  life,  but  there 
will  be  spiritual  depression,  loss  of  comfort,  and  often  well- 


The  Preacher  Called.  127 

marked  providential  afflictions.  The  sin  may  not  be  "  unto 
death,"  but  the  manifestations  of  the  divine  disapprobation 
will  be  neither  few  nor  light  There  are  many  good  men 
in  the  Church,  called  in  their  youth  to  preach,  whose  lives 
have  been  embittered  by  conflict  and  disappointment,  and 
whose  temporal  and  spiritual  wdtfere  has  been  engloomed 
l^y  this  mistake  of  their  earlier  religious  history.  Their  re- 
lease from  a  distasteful  duty  has  been  attended  by  trouble 
and  disaster,  by  the  loss  of  peace  and  satisfaction,  and  by 
heart-ielt  sorrow  and  regret  that  they  did  not  heed  the  voice 
of  God.  The  young  man  who  is  called  to  this  work  will  be 
happier  in  it  than  in  any  other  condition,  and  if  he  does 
not  lose  his  soul  by  declining  to  enter  it,  he  will  have  cause 
to  mourn  over  the  most  serious  error  of  his  life. 

Disobedience  to  this  conviction  may  entail  eternal  ruin 
upon  the  soul.  The  grieved  Spirit  departs  from  him  who 
willfully  resists  his  operations,  and  he  is  left  alone  to  his 
idols.  The  refusal  to  obey  this  call  is  the  beginning  of  a 
course  of  backsliding,  which  ultimately  reaches  apostasy. 
Thousands  who  have  taken  the  responsibility  of  deciding 
against  the  clearest  intimations  of  God's  Avill  concerning 
them  have  sealed  their  doom  by  this  act.  They  have  sought 
relief  from  their  convictions  by  keeping  aloof  from  all  re- 
ligious influences,  and  by  plunging  more  deeply  into  the 
pursuits  and  pleasures  of  the  world.  They  have  fled  from 
the  presence  of  the  Lord  rather  than  accept  the  burden  of 
calling  sinners  to  repentance.  The  young  man  whom  Christ 
called  to  follow  him,  although  he  went  away  sorrowing, 
still  went  away  to  keep  his  possessions  and  to  lose  his  soul. 
Necessity  is  doubtless  laid  upon  all  who  are  called  to  preach. 
In  some  it  may  be  a  higher  and  more  inexorable  necessity 
than  in  others,  but  still  there  is  a  woe  which  follows  disobe- 
dience. In  some  it  is  a  more  prominent  element  of  convic- 
tion than  in  others,  and  in  many  it  is  nearly  lost  and  over- 


128  The  Editor-Bishop. 


shadowed  by  a  superabounding  love  for  the  work  of  saving 
souls.  So  glorious  and  delightful  is  this  employment  that 
they  engage  in  it  with  the  enthusiasm  of  volunteers,  and  are 
thankful  for  the  privilege  of  proclaiming  the  riches  of  the 
grace  of  God  in  Christ.  The  point  of  perplexity  is  not 
whether  they  must,  but  whether  they  may  preach  the  gospel. 
The  blessing  and  not  the  woe  stimulates  and  attracts,  and 
they  are  drawn  and  allured  by  the  constraining  love  of 
Christ.  The  sense  of  privilege  may  be  greater  than  that  of 
necessity,  and  so  much  greater  that  all  consciousness  of 
compulsion  is  lost  in  the  freeness  and  gladness  with  which 
the  divine  commission  is  accepted.  That  view  of  the  min- 
istry which  regards  it  as  a  species  of  servitude  to  which 
some  believers  are  condemned  is  far  from  the  true  concej> 
tion.  It  is  rather  the  freest  and  noblest  sphere  of  Christian 
duty,  in  which  every  peculiar  sacrifice  is  offset  by  the  grand- 
est compensations.  It  is  an  invitation  to  the  highest  seat  at  the 
gospel-feast,  and  a  distinction  which  angels  might  covet.  Inci- 
dentally, and  to  serve  the  argument  in  hand,  Paul  exclaims, 
"  Woe  is  unto  me,  if  I  preach  not  the  gospel ! "  but  gener- 
ally he  alludes  to  his  ministerial  vocation  in  terms  of  thank- 
fulness and  satisfaction.  He  magnifies  his  office,  and  glo- 
ries in  its  tribulations  and  suflTerings:  "And  I  thank  Christ 
Jesus  our  Lord,  who  hath  enabled  me,  for  that  he  counted 
me  faithful,  putting  me  into  the  ministry."  The  necessity 
was  there,  and  in  all  his  ministry,  but  it  was  outstripped  by 
the  nobler  principles  of  faith  and  love,  and  overgrown  by 
the  fragrant  bloom  of  a  cheerful  and  joyous  service.  How- 
ever it  might  have  been  on  the  service  in  the  beginning  of 
his  career,  it  gave  place  and  became  subordinate  to  the  im- 
pulse of  a  consecrated  and  holy  heart. 

We  can  scarcely  think  of  John  as  uttering  the  Pauline 
woe  at  all.  A  nature  like  his  needed  not  the  lash  to  drive 
him  into  the  field  of  duty,  but  it  yielded  readily  to  the  di- 


The  Preacher  Called.  129 


vine  drawings  and  the  sweet  entrancements  of  the  spiritual 
life.  His  call  was  doubtless  backed  by  as  great  a  woe  as 
that  of  Paul,  but  it  may  never  have  risen  clearly  into  his 
consciousness,  because  its  office  was  not  needed.  To  him 
the  ministry  was  altogether  a  call  of  privilege,  a  glory  and 
a  joy,  and  a  service  of  perfect  freedom.  Prudential  fear 
enters  largely  into  ordinary  Cliristiau  experience,  but  it 
loses  prominence  under  the  growing  strength  of  the  spirit- 
ual life,  and  almost  fades  from  thought  in  the  glowing  and 
grateful  affection  of  the  believing  heart.  It  is  so  in  ministe- 
rial experience,  in  which  the  "Woe  is  unto  me,"  however 
true  in  fact,  is  sunk  in  the  all-pervading  love  of  Christ  and 
his  work.  Doubtless  there  are  some  preachers  who  have 
scarcely,  even  at  the  beginning  of  their  career,  felt  any  thing 
of  it.  The  seraphim  have  touched  their  lips  with  fire  from 
the  altar,  and  when  God  has  asked  the  question,  "  Whom 
shall  I  send,  and  who  will  go  for  us?"  the  response  has 
been,  "Here  am  I;  send  me." 

There  is  an  inward  moral  necessity  which  the  minister  of 
the  gospel  feels  without  any  distinct  reference  to  the  conse- 
quences as  they  may  affect  himself.  The  burden  of  the 
word  of  the  Lord  is  upon  him,  and  he  must  relieve  his 
heart  of  the  burning  truths  that  stir  within.  He  cannot 
hold  his  peace  if  he  would,  and  utterance  must  be  given  to 
the  message  that  he  feels  commissioned  to  proclaim.  The 
prophet's  w'ords  describe  at  least  the  occasional  feelings  of 
the  man  who  is  called  of  God  to  preach :  "  But  his  word 
was  in  mine  heart  as  a  burning  fire  shut  up  in  my  bones, 
and  I  was  weary  with  forbearing,  and  I  could  not  stay." 
This  burning  fire  shut  up  in  the  bones  is  a  necessity  differ- 
ent from  that  which  is  laid  upon  the  conscience  by  the  dan- 
ger to  our  own  salvation,  and  differing  also  somewhat  from 
that  grateful  love'  which  gladly  and  freely  accepts  this  form 
of  Christian  consecration.  Many  are  moved  by  this  sense 
9 


130  The  Ei>itoi:-Bisiioi'. 

of  woe  to  preach,  many  are  perhaps  held  in  their  course  by 
this  influence;  but  it  does  not  stand  alone,  nor  is  it  the  high- 
est principle  of  duty.  It  is  an  element  in  all  Christian  life 
and  in  the  ministerial  call,  but  it  is  not  at  all  times  present 
in  the  mind,  and  in  some  instances  it  may  not  have  been 
recognized  where  other  motives  have  been  in  the  ascendant. 
An  undue  emphasis  of  Paul's  words  may  lead  to  the  er- 
ror that  the  ministry  is  a  path  in  which  the  highest  incen- 
tives are  not  adequate,  in  which  the  believer  is  driven  by 
the  whip  of  necessity,  and  in  which  the  principles  and  re- 
wards of  a  religious  life  are  not  found.  The  aj)ostle's  "  Woe 
is  unto  me"  may  also  be  perverted  and  misapplied  by  some 
who  are  exercised  upon  the  subject  of  the  call  to  preach. 
Perhaps  they  do  not  feel  this  woe;  but  is  it  needful  in  every 
case  that  they  should?  May  tli*y  not  be  drawn  by  the  love 
of  Christ  and  moved  by  the  word  of  the  Lord  in  the  heart? 
The  permission  may  be  stronger  than  the  sense  of  require- 
ment, and  the  privilege  greater  than  the  feeling  of  necessity. 
Love  may  be  stronger  than  fear,  and  the  sense  of  blessed- 
ness in  this  service  may  overtop  the  conceivable  conse- 
quences of  disobedience. 


THE  PREACHER  AT  WORK. 


GODLY  CRAFT. 

PAUL  made  a  bold  and  instructive  confession  when  he 
said :  "  Nevertheless,  being  crafty,  I  caught  you  with 
guile."  Soul-saving  is  an  art^  as  much  higher  than  all  other 
arts  as  its  object  is  greater  than  all  other  kinds  of  human 
enterprise.  "  He  that  winneth  souls  is  wise,"  and  there  is  a 
fertility  of  invention  and  a  studied  application  of  means 
which  are  needful  to  insure  success.  These  alone  will  ac- 
complish nothing,  but  they  tell  amazingly  when  united  and 
in  harmony  with  the  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  "While 
God  gives  the  increase,  and  while  onlj^the  good  seed  of  the 
gospel  bears  living  fruit,  the  skill  of  the  sower  has  much 
to  do  with  the  result.  As  workers  together  with  God,  we 
may  work  in  such  a  bungling  way  as  to  do  little  or  nothing 
in  bringing  souls  to  Christ.  Paul  artfully  accommodated 
himself  to  the  conditions  around  him.  "  I  am  made  all 
things  to  all  men,  that  I  might  by  all  means  save  some." 
The  guile  which  he  employed  consisted  in  the  wise  and 
dexterous  use  of  the  lawful  and  the  expedient  to  move  and 
allure  to  virtue  and  piety.  Prejudices  were  conciliated, 
habits,  tastes,  and  opinions  were  treated  with  careful  deli- 
cacy, and  all  the  springs  of  human  action  were  touched 
with  such  a  deft  and  adroit  manipulation  as  to  lead  the 
opposers  unconsciously  up  to  the  acceptance  of  religious 
truth.  In  this  there  was  no  compromise  of  any  thing  essen- 
tial ;  but  where  occasion  called  for  it,  there  was  the  most 
unflmching  assertion  of  the  offensive  doctrines  of  the  cross. 
This  combination  of  art  and  of  fidelity  is  the  element  in 

(131) 


132  The  Editor-Bishop. 

soul-saving  which  demands  our  study  and  imitation.  It  is 
to  have  craft  and  guile,  and  to  be  at  the  same  time  without 
low  cunning  and  clear  of  blamable  duplicity.  It  is  to  be 
wise  to  win,  without  abating  the  claim^of  the  gospel ;  and 
to  be  all  things  to  all  men,  while  we  know  nothing  among 
them  but  "  Christ  and  him  crucified."  It  will  not  do  to 
fall  back  upon  the  divine  power  of  the  gospel,  and  to  rest 
complacently  in  the  conviction  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is  the 
adequate  and  only  saving  agent.  If  God  accei^ts  of  human 
instrumentalities,  and  has  made  the  world's  salvation  de- 
pendent upon  them,  we  are  responsible  for  their  most  effect- 
ive disposition  and  use.  While  every  thing  is  in  the  in- 
spired word,  there  is  much  in  the  manner  of  its  exposition 
and  application.  Christ  might  have  put  the  suljstance  of 
his  teachings  into  a  few  propositions  as  dry  and  bald  as  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles  and  as  terse  and  compact  as  the  Nicene 
Creed.  He  chose,  however,  a  style  ornate  and  lavishly  em- 
bellished, illustrating  by  the  most  finished  parables,  and  by 
the  richest  imagery,  and  by  the  largest  affluence  of  figura- 
tive language.  He  taught  with  authority  and  with  the  ut- 
most fidelity,  and  yet  with  consummate  art.  His  life  and 
intercourse  with  men  show  of  whom  Paul  had  learned  his 
crafl.  To  seek  and  to  save  the  lost  he  also,  in  some  sort, 
became  all  things  to  all  men,  adapting  himself  to  the  ca- 
pacities and  social  customs  of  the  times;  but  so  that  sin  was 
always  rebuked,  sincerity,  penitence^  and  faith  were  com- 
mended, and  the  afflicted  were  cheered  and  comforted.  The 
apostles  were  to  be  "  fishers  of  men,"  and  to  take  with  them 
into  their  higher  calling  the  tact,  judgment,  and  practical 
resources  which  had  been  developed  by  their  toils  and  per- 
ils on  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  Here  was  a  stormier  deep  before 
them,  and  prizes  of  infinite  value  to  be  taken.  And  here 
was  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  all  their  motiier-wit  and  all 
their  darinjj  and  shrewdness.     The  line  and  tiie  net  were 


The  Preacher  at  Work.  133 

scarcely  to  be  cast  at  ranSoni,  but  rather  to  be  handled 
with  ingenuity  and  skill.  They  were  to  catch  men — not 
by  casting  their  nets  at  a  venture  and  by  drawing  it  in  a 
careless  manner,  but  with  elaborate  art,  with  a  view  to  re- 
sults. * 

Our  efforts  to  save  men  are  too  often  perfunctory  in  their 
character,  and  we  turn  complacently  from  them  with  the 
doubtful  satisfaction  that  we  have  done  our  part.  If  the 
sinner  is  not  saved,  it  is  his  own  fault.  We  have  delivered 
our  testimony,  and  here  our  responsibility  ends.  But  have 
we  used  every  possible  art  to  awaken  and  attract  him  to 
the  cross?  Have  we  studied  his  character  and  adapted  our 
means  to  reach  his  heart,  and  to  interest  him  on  the  sub- 
ject of  personal  salvation  ?  The  Christian,  whether  preach- 
er or  layman,  cannot  be  clear  unless  he  has  brought  all 
resources  and  all  expedients  to  bear  upon  his  work.  "That 
I  might  ty  all  means  save  some  "  was  Paul's  endeavor.  The 
adequacy  of  the  gospel,  the  necessity  of  the  Spirit's  opera- 
tions, are  all  conceded ;  but  still  there  was  room  for  godly 
craft.  Among  the  Greeks  he  reminded  them  of  what  their 
own  poets  had  said,  and  illustrated  the  Christian  warfare 
by  allusions  to  their  historic  games  and  their  military  cus- 
toms. He  was  at  home  in  the  literature  of  Athens  and 
Crete,  and  knew  when  and  how  to  quote  their  standard 
authors.  Among  the  Jews  he  appealed  to  his  own  unblem- 
ished Hebrew  lineage,  and  drew  his  weapons  with  wonder- 
ful tact  from  the  armery  of  patriarchal  and  Levitical  lore. 

Of  the  eminent  soul-savers  among  uninspired  men  it  is 
enough  to  say  that  their  business  was  an  art  in  which  means 
and  expedients  were  studiously  adapted  to  the  great  end  in 
view.  How  to  save  souls,  and  how  to  save  the  most,  is  the 
thing  aimed  at.  Whatever  lawful  expedients  will  reach 
this  result  are  certainly  legitimate.  Luther  and  Wesley, 
scarcely  less  than  Christ  and  Paul,  had  to  break  with  the 


134  The  Editor-Bishop. 

traditions  and  methods  of  their  times.  Whitefield  wielded 
his  mighty  power  at  the  expense  of  regularity  and  order  in 
the  Established  Church,  but  with  a  single  eye  to  saving 
results.  A  church  is  built  to  be  filled;  the  gospel  is  pro- 
claimed to  be  heard;  Christian  men  and  women  are  to 
leaven  this  great  worldly  mass,  and  to  save  the  human  race, 
i^.gainst  the  good  is  marshaled  every  form  of  cunning  and 
the  most  multifarious  devices  and  inventions  of  evil.  World- 
ly sensations  must  be  met  with  the  religious,  and  the  wis- 
dom of  the  serpent,  along  with  the  harmlessness  of  the 
dove,  must  inform  our  religious  life  and  enterprise.  If 
Christians  are  solely  intent  upon  saving  souls,  they  will  not 
stand  upon  dignity  and  order ;  they  will  not  be  content  to 
move  in  the  old  ruts ;  they  will  not  be  satisfied  with  a  stated 
round  of  duties  which  produce  no  fruit,  but  they  will  seek 
new  and  improved  methods.  The  elaborate  wiles  which 
the  devil  throws  around  a  single  soul  surpass  description. 
The  snares  and  allurements  of  the  world  are  a  most  formida* 
ble  and  complex  apparatus  for  the  destruction  of  men.  We 
must  also  be  fruitful  in  the  devices  and  allurements  of  love, 
study  effect  upon  character  to  a  sanctified  end,  and  seek  by 
the  most  varied  appliances  and  by  the  highest  art  to  com- 
pass the  salvation  of  perishing  souls. 


COMFORTING  GOD'S  PEOPLE. 

The  ministry  is  specially  charged  with  this  duty.  Theirs 
is  the  office  of  consolation.  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  ttiy 
people,"  was  the  message  given  to  the  prophet;  and  it  is 
also  a  part  of  the  great  commission  given  to  the  preacher 
of  the  gospel. 

God's  people  are  an  afflicted  people.  The  ordinary  ca- 
lamities of  life  fall  to  their  lot.  Sorrows  are  sown  thick 
along  the  path  of  many  of  them,  and  nearly  all,  soon  or 


The  Preacher  at  Work.  135 

late,  are  made  to  drink  of  the  bitter  cup  of  misfortune. 
Religion  does  not  exempt  its  possessor  from  pain  and  trouble. 
Among  the  most  holy  and  devoted  servants  of  God  may  be 
found  instances  of  the  most  severe  affliction.  There  is  need 
of  comfort,  and  it  is  alike  the  duty  and  privilege  of  the 
preacher  to  console  those  that  are  in  distress. 

The  fact  that  Christians  suffer  is  too  manifest  to  call  for 
proof.  The  reason  for  it  is  one  chief  element  in  the  balm 
which  the  gospel  offers.  Trial  is  a  part  of  our  earthly  pro- 
bation, and  its  purpose  is  for  discipline.  God's  paternal 
love  is  exhibited  in  the  afflictions  of  his  children.  For 
spiritual  ends,  for  the  development  of  character,  and  to 
prepare  us  for  the  heavenly  home,  he  has  appointed  these 
fiery  trials.  That  they  are  of  God  and  that  they  have  a 
high  and  loving  purpose  are  sufficient  reasons  for  quiet  and 
joyous  endurance.  With  the  assurance  that  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  there  is  no 
room  for  despondency.  If  God's  particular  and  tender 
care  is  over  his  children,  and  if  this  ccmviction  be  strong 
in  them,  there  is  no  occasion  for  misgiving.  With  the  sure 
revelation  of  a  future  life,  the  resurrection  of  the' dead,  and 
eternal  blessedness,  the  present  pain  is  of  small  moment. 
There  is  comfort  in  this  blessed  hope  that  asserts  itself  in 
the  most  desperate  straits  of  life,  and  that  triumphs  over 
temporal  misfortunes. 

The  people  of  God  are  to  be  comforted — not  only  because 
they  need  it,  but  also  because  they  are  in  a  condition  to 
receive  consolation.  The  strong  consolation  is  possible  only 
to  those  who  have  fled  for  refuge  to  lay  hold  upon  the  hopes 
set  before  them.  It  is  in  fact  impossible  to  comfort  the  im- 
penitent and  the  unbelieving.  Real  comfort  must  flow 
from  the  divine  promises,  from  Christ  as  our  accepted  Sav- 
iour, and  from  the  hope  that  is  born  of  the  witness  of  the 
Spirit.     For  those  who  persist  in  sin  and  in  opposition  to 


136  The  Editor  Bishop. 

God  there  can  be  no  particle  of  consolation.  They  delib- 
erately place  themselves  beyond  the  reach  of  the  great  an- 
tidote to  human  sorrow.  But  the  people  of  God  have  need 
to  be  reminded  of  the  richness  of  their  inheritance  of  grace, 
and  to  be  directed  to  the  abundant  resources  of  comfort 
which  their  faith  contains. 

However  we  may  explain  it,  there  are  Christians  who  do 
not  seem  to  know  how  to  summon  the  reserves  of  consola- 
tion in  the  time  of  trial.  There  is  bewilderment  under  the 
first  shock  of  sorrow,  and  sometimes  a  spirit  of  murmuring 
and  distrust.  With  a  cordial  for  every  wound  within  reach, 
the  hand  that  should  be  stretched  forth  is  paralyzed.  Just 
when  the  vision  of  the  unseen  world  should  be  most  clear 
and  penetrating,  the  eyes  of  faith  are  holden.  Until  trouble 
came,  the  office  of  consolation  in  religion  was  subordinate 
and  but  little  considered ;  and  when  the  sudden  blow  fell, 
the  refuge  seemed  to  be  shrouded  in  mist  and  wrapped  in 
the  obscurity  of  a  far-off  object.  It  is  well  to  keep  the  ele- 
ments of  religious  consolation  in  hand,  so  that  when  the 
emergency  arises,  and  the  fierce  storm  comes  down  upon  us, 
we  may  be  ready.  For  whatever  reason  the  fact  remains 
that  tried  and  afflicted  saints  stand  in  need  of  this  special 
ministry  of  comfort.  The  firm  foundation,  although  built 
upon,  must  be  measured  and  analyzed,  and  its  deep  and 
abiding  character  recalled  to  those  who  feel  the  shock  of 
an  unwonted  conflict. 

There  are  "  sons  of  consolation  " — those  who  have  a  spe- 
cial aptitude  to  help  and  strengthen  weak  and  troubled 
souls.  In  temperament  they  are  sympathetic,  in  discern- 
ment they  detect  the  rooted  sorrow,  and  because  they  have 
trodden  the  path  of  affliction  themselves  they  are  gracious- 
ly qualified  to  succor  those  that  are  tempted.  There  are 
"  sons  of  thunder,"  and  also  "  sons  of  consolation ; "  but  the 
complete  ministry  is  that  which  combines  the  two.     It  may 


The  Pkeacher  at  Work.  137 

not  be  possible  in  all  in  an  equal  degree,  and  yet  it  is  an  ex- 
cellence to  be  aimed  at.  To  comfort  is  most  Christ-like, 
and  to  be  envied  is  he  who  is  wise  and  strong  in  this  min- 
istry of  consolation.  In  every  congregation  are  troubled, 
tempted,  discouraged  disciples.  They  are  waiting  and  hun- 
gering for  a  crumb  of  comfort,  for  a  word  of  good  cheer, 
and  longing  for  the  hand  that  shall  lead  them  "  beside  the 
still  waters." 

The  ministry  of  consolation  is  in  accord  with  the  office 
and  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  the  Comforter.  "We  may 
be  sure  that  he  is  present  to  seal  the  message,  to  illumine 
the  heart,  and  to  apply  the  promises.  It  is  a  work  in  which 
we  may  suppose  the  Spirit  especially  delights.  The  meth- 
ods and  expedients  of  divine  love  are  often  severe,  but  their 
end  in  holiness  is  a  supreme  and  everlasting  consolation. 
It  is  the  privilege  of  the  man  of  God  to  be  a  co-worker 
with  the  trhine  God  in  this  blessed  work  of  bringing  forth 
the  wealth  of  consolation  from  the  treasury  of  faith,  and 
to  comfort  the  people  of  God. 


WHAT  AND  HOW  TO  PREACH. 

A  YOUNG  preacher  writes :  "  Could  not  some  of  you  doc- 
tors of  divinity  give  us  an  occasional  hint  about  Avhat  to 
preach,  or  how  to  preach,  or  any  thing  of  the  kind?  You 
know  we  are  slow  to  learn,  and  need  just  as  much  precept 
as  we  can  get."  There  are  many  excellent  works  on  preach- 
ing, such  as  Vinet's  "  Pastoral  Theology,"  Bautaine,  Broad- 
us,  Bishop  Simpson's  "  Yale  Lectures,"  and  "Ad  Clerum," 
by  Joseph  Parker.  Young  preachers  would  do  well  to  read 
works  like  these  we  have  mentioned.  A  careful  study  of 
the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  and  Paul's  Epistles,  especially 
what  are  called  the  "  Pastoral  Epistles,"  will  throw  inspired 
light  upon  what  and  how  to  preach.     It  is  plain,  in  general 


138  The  Editoii-Bishop. 

terms,  that  we  are  to  preach  the  gospel.  "Preach  the 
word,"  is  Paul's  iujunctioa.  As  embassadors  for  Christ  the 
message  is  given,  and  it  is  the  preacher's  business  to  deliver 
it.  Sinners  are.  to  be  called  to  repentance,  and  believers 
are  to  be  built  up  and  instructed.  The  law  of  God  must 
be  explained  and  enforced ;  the  plan  of  redemption  in  Christ, 
its  means  and  conditions,  must  be  made  prominent;  and  all 
the  duties  and  precepts  of  the  Bible  should  be  expounded 
and  applied  to  the  conscience  and  life. 

In  what  relative  proportion  these  subjects  are  to  appear 
in  our  preaching  depends  much  upon  the  character  of  our 
hearers  and  of  the  congregation  before  us.  It  is  sometimes 
expedient  to  take  such  texts  as  are  of  an  awakening  char- 
acter, such  as  are  best  adapted  to  produce  conviction  in  the 
minds  of  the  unconverted.  Again,  there  arc  occasions  when 
Christians  are  to  be  addressed  upon  matters  of  duty  and 
experience.  Ordinarily,  however,  we  would  aim  to  give 
every  one  his  portion,  whether  saint  or  sinner,  in  every  ser- 
mon. The  object  should  be  to  touch  the  heart,  conscience, 
and  life  of  every  person  in  the  assembly,  and  so  to  declare 
the  whole  counsel  of  God  that  you  can  meet  every  hearer 
in  the  judgment  without  condemnation. 

Our  taste  is  in  the  expository  preaching.  The  Bible  is 
full  of  good  texts,  and  instead  of  a  sharply  defined  topic, 
with  a  mere  scriptural  motto  appended,  we  greatly  prefer  a 
rich  and  juicy  text  that  admits  of  unity  of  thought,  and  at 
the  same  time  comprehends  many  aspects  of  doctrine  and 
experience.  There  is  life  in  the  word,  there  is  food  in  it, 
and  there  is  the  Holy  Ghost  in  it.  To  get  at  the  mind  of  the 
Spirit  in  any  given  text  should  be  the  main  care.  It  may 
mean  this  or  that,  and  many  true  and  useful  things  may  be 
said  in  connection  with  it,  but  the  preacher  should  labor  to 
bring  out  the  precise  shade  of  thought  as  accurately  as  pos- 
sible, the  precise  thing  intended  by  the  inspired  author. 


Thk  Preacher  at  Work.  ];}9 

Loose  and  careless  exposition,  or  the  quoting  of  texts  with- 
out using  them,  or  the  perversion  of  Scripture  to  illustrate 
something  foreign  to  their  purpose,  are  all  open  to  the 
charge  of  "  handling  the  word  of  God  deceitfully."  A 
knowledge  of  the  original  languages  in  which  the  Script- 
ures were  written  is  of  great  service  to  the  expositor ;  but 
in  these  days  good  commentaries  are  abundant,  and  by  their 
use  any  studious  man  may  attain  to  excellence  in  exposi- 
tion. Expository  preaching  has  in  it  greater  variety  than 
the  topical.  Topics  run  out  after  awhile,  but  the  word  of 
God  is  deep,  inexhaustible,  and  always  abounding  in  fresh 
and  varied  materials.  A  good  critical  commentary,  writ- 
ten by  a  man  of  true  spiritual  insight,  in  which  the  exact 
sense  of  the  scripture  is  brought  out,  is,  after  the  Bible,  the 
most  necessary  book  for  the  young  preacher  to  study  and 
consult.  The  habit  of  thorough  analysis  should  be  formed, 
and  the  method  and  arrangement  should  be  such  as  to  give 
the  greatest  clearness  and  force  to  the  passage  in  hand. 
Attention  to  arrangement  is  important,  because  the  maxi- 
mum of  power  in  the  preacher  cannot  be  reached  by  a 
rambling  and  disconnected  discourse,  and  because  the  hear- 
er needs  method  to  assist  attention  and  memory,  and  in 
order  to  any  definite  and  powerful  impression 

The  young  preacher  has  the  opportunity  of  forming  right 
habits  of  study  and  also  of  delivery.  After  middle  life  not 
much  change  can  be  expected;  but  early  in  the  ministerial 
life  the  power  of  extemporaneous  speaking  can  usually  be 
acquired.  And  if  it  can  be,  it  is  the  better  way.  Every  ser- 
mon should  be  thought  out,  and  ordinarily  the  outlines  put 
on  paper ;  but  it  will  be  all  the  better  if  never  so  much  as 
a  catch-word  be  taken  into  the  pulpit.  Generally  the  use 
of  notes  and  of  manuscript  is  a  habit  gradually  formed,  and 
that  might  have  been  avoided.  We  mention  what  we  re- 
gard as  generally  best.     There  arc  exceptions  to  the  rule, 


140  TuE  EuiTOR-Bisuop. 


but  they  are  fe\Y.  With  a  previously  thorough  study  of 
the  subject,  memory  and  self-possession  will  seldom  fail 
those  who  trust  them. 

Much  has  been  written  about  the  length  of  sermons. 
Young  preachers  do  well  to  study  brevity,  and  old  ones  too. 
From  thirty  to  forty  minutes  is  ordinarily  long  enough, 
though  this  depends  on  how  often  ^le  people  hear  preach- 
ing, on  the  occasion,  and  on  the  preacher  himself  As  we 
advance  in  years  the  mental  resources  become  more  ample, 
the  mind  works  more  slowly,  and  the  tendency  is  to  grow 
prolix.  Old  men  will  not  mend,  but  by  considering  in 
time  young  men  may  form  the  habit  of  preaching  compar- 
atively short  sermons.  Our  bishops  and  great  preachers 
preach  long  sermons,  and  they  have  a  right  to  do  so.  Peo- 
ple come  a  long  distance  to  hear  them,  and  would  not  be 
satisfied  with  a  short  sermon.  But  the  measure  of  Marvin, 
Munsey,  Kavanaugh,  Doggett,  and  others  like  them,  is  not 
for  us.  Let  us  call  to  mind  the  fable  of  the  frogs  and  the 
ox,  and  not  attempt  greatness  in  the  direction  of  long  ser- 
mons. There  is  nmch  in  the  manner  of  preaching — the 
management  of  the  voice,  the  gestures.  Young  preachers 
can  improve  themselves  here.  They  can  avoid  and  correct 
what  is  repulsive,  and  bring  the  physical  powei-s  into  per- 
fect harmony  with  the  workings  of  mind  and  the  emotions 
of  the  heart.  It  falls  to  the  lot  of  few  to  become  popular 
orators;  but  the  most  can  speak  so  as  not  to  offend  good 
taste,  and  so  as  to  command  the  attention  and  respect  of 
sensible  people. 

It  is  scarcely  needful  to  say  that  spirituality  is  the  cap 
ital  qualification.  This,  fully  possessed,  will  shape  our 
preaching  wholesomely,  both  as  to  the  matter  and  manner. 
There  is  a  good  deal  of  unspiritual  preaching,  dabbling  in 
science,  and  a  rage  for  sensational  illustration.  The  preach- 
er must  walk  with  God  and  live  a  life  of  prayer  and  com- 


The  Preacher  at  Work.  141 

munion  with  Christ  There  is  a  lack  of  spirituality  even 
in  preachers.  They  often  have  a  certain  type  of  zeal,  they 
are  clear  thinkers,  brilliant  declainiers,  and  religious,  but 
they  need  a  deeper  work  of  the  Spirit  in  their  own  hearts. 
"Tiie  spirit  of  love,  of  power,  and  of  a  sound  mind,"  is  al- 
jn6st  sure  to  be  found  in  connection  with  a  close  and  hum- 
ble walk  with  God.  #he  preacher  cannot  be  too  careful 
of  his  own  spiritual  condition.  It  is  the  essential  element 
of  a  Christian  ministry,  and  that  which  makes  a  personal 
ministry  the  appointed  means  of  saving  the  world. 


CUMULATIVE  PREACHING. 

As  we  were  listening  to  a  preacher  the  other  Sunday  we 
felt  the  force  of  the  man's  whole  life  poured  upon  us  in  a 
discourse  of  forty-five  minutes.  All  that  the  man  knew 
could  not  be  told  in  that  length  of  time,  but  the  best  that 
he  knew  on  that  particular  subject  could;  and  so  we  real- 
ized that  we  were  getting  the  choicest  results  of  a  ministry 
of  twenty-five  years,  ^'he  matter  wr.s  evidently  culled  and 
chosen  from"  a  large  stock,  and  did  not,  by  any  means,  em- 
brace all.  A  younger  man  could  not  have  done  so  well, 
because  the  results  of  his  thinking  and  gathering  Avould 
have  come  from  a  scantier  store.  When  Dr.  Lyman  Beech- 
er  declared  that  he  was  forty  years  in  preparing  a  certain 
sermon  he  meant  it  in  this  sense,  that  it  was  the  outcome  of 
that  many  years  of  general  study  and  of  mental  and  spir- 
itual training,  although  the  actual  writing  of  the  sermon 
may  not  have  occupied  him  more  than  a  few  hours. 

We  also  thought  that  the  cogent  reasoning,  the  happy 
arrangement,  the  lucid  statement,  were  the  results  of  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  of  mental  discipline  and  training  added 
to  Ihe  college  course.  It  took  time  to  develop  these  mental 
powers  and  to  bring  them  to  their  present  state  of  cfrectiv©* 


142  The  Editor-Bishop. 

ness  and  strength.  These  trained  powers  of  mind  were 
more  completely  exhibited  in  this  single  sermon  than  the 
stores  of  mere  knowledge  could  be.  So  far  as  they  were 
concerned,  we  w'ere  being  served  by  the  accumulated  re- 
sults of  all  the  preacher's  past  years  of  study  and  mental 
effort.  This  treasure,  of  a  mind  brought  to  its  ripest  strength 
and  polish  through  so  long  a  course^f  training,  was  minis- 
tering, in  its  wholeness,  to  us  in  this  one  sermon.  Just  as 
all  the  weight  of  the  costly  and  beautiful  machinery  bears 
upon  the  die  in  coining  every  precious  piece,  so  the  whole 
mind,  with  all  that  it  had  become,  stamped  itself  upon  this 
single  piece  of  gospel  gold. 

There  was  also  the  spiritual  element.  Paul  knew  whom 
he  had  believed,  because  he  had  long  been  acquainted  with 
Christ.  It  was  the  knowledge  of  long  acquaintance,  of 
Avalking  with  Christ  for  many  years,  and  of  trusting  him 
under  many  and  varied  circumstances.  In  the  case  we 
were  considering,  besides  the  early  conversion,  the  Scripture 
study,  there  were  years  of  religious  experience.  In  all 
this  time  there  had  been  growth  in  grace  and  growth  in  the 
knowledge  of  Christ.  The  deep  things  of  God  had  been 
sounded  as  they  could  not  have  been  in  the  first  years  of 
the  most  devoted  ministry.  Here  was  a  mature  piety,  with 
its  wealth  of  increase,  and  with  its  strong  and  deep  insight,  - 
and  spiritual  enlargement  and  freedom,  coming  full-handed 
to  anoint  us  with  the  gathered  unction  of  years  of  prayer 
and  of  spiritual  struggles  and  victories. 

We  reflected  further  that  nothing  grows  like  character, 
and  that  the  sum  and  might  of  it  all  are  put  into  every 
word  the  preacher  utters,  into  every  blow  he  strikes.  Up 
to  the  last  hour  before  the  sermon  is  preached  something  is 
added,  and  the  entire  power  of  a  spotless  and  holy  life  goes 
into  every  sermon. 

What,  we  asked  ourselves,  is  the  value  of  a  sermon  that 


The  Preacher  at  Work.  143 

is  the  product  of  such  manifold  and  rich  materials  gathered 
through  many  years  of  mental  toil,  heart-searchings,  and 
consecrated  living?  And  do  we  generally  take  into  account 
what  preaching  is  made  of,  and  how  much  it  costs  those  who 
are  doing  it?  And  it  also  occurred  to  us  that  one  secret 
of  good  preaching  and  of  a  successful  ministry  lies  in  hoard- 
ing up,  saving  pareimc^niously  every  thing  in  the  way  of 
thorough  study,  of  religious  experience,  and  of  Christian 
character.  Where  this  cumulative  process  goes  on,  time  is 
an  important  factor  of  excellence.  But  this  process,  un- 
fortunately, is  not  the  universal  rule.  Perhaps  there  are 
not  many  who  can  put  a  whole  life  of  thought  and  experi- 
ence and  character  into  every  sermon.  There  have  been 
miscarriages,  negligences,  mistakes.  But  for  these  they 
would  be  greater  preachers  than  they  are. 


THE  PREACHER  IN  METHODISM. 


THE  ITINERANT  SCHOOL. 

SOME  years  ago,  after  hearing  one  of  our  bishops,  a  broth- 
er said  to  us,  "  Is  there  any  other  system  than  oui-s  that 
can  develop  such  preaching  as  that?"     The  question  came 
up  in  our  own  mind  while  meditating  on  the  character  and 
powers  of  our  beloved  and  lamented  Bishop  Marvin.    Those 
to  whom  we  have  referred,  though  exceptionally  eminent, 
may  be  regarded  as  representatives  of  a  class  of  preachei-s 
who  have  come  up  through  the  itinerant  school,  and  who 
have  been  made  what  they  were  in  a  large  measure  by  its  pe- 
culiar advantages  and  discipline.     It  is  doubtful  whether 
many  of  them  would  ever  have  been  heard  of  as  preachers 
if  such  a  system  as  ours  had  not  been  open  for  their  recep- 
tion.    They  were  without  the  means  to  enter  institutions  of 
learning,  and  if  the  only  path  to  the  ministry  had  been 
through  the  college  and  seminary  they  must  of  necessity 
have  turned  to  dther  pursuits.     No  matter  how  clear  and 
strong  the  conviction  that  they  were  called  to  preach,  but 
for  this  open  door  their  way  would  have  been  closed,  and 
many  of  its  greatest   and   most   useful   preachers   would 
have  been  lost  to  the  Church.     It  is  to  be  set  down  to  the 
credit  of  the  system  that  such  men  as  McKendree,  Bascom, 
Marvin,  Winans,  Pitts,  Munsey,  Green,  and  many  others, 
came  to  be  eminent  messengers  of  the  gospel.     It  afforded 
the  opportunity,  and  gave  them  the  chance  without  which 
they  could  never  have  entered  upon  that  career  in  Avhich 
they  became  so  distinguished.     The  itinerant  school  gave 
them  the  needed  opportunity  for  study  and  work,  and  by 
(144) 


The  Preacher  in  Methodism.  145 

its  provisions  afE)rded  the  facilities  for  improvement  in 
knowledge  and  for  the  exercise  and  development  of  their 
gifts  in  preaching. 

That  it  would  have  been  better  if  these  men  had  been  reg- 
ularly educated  may  be  true;  but  as  this  was  impossible,  it 
was  the  itinerant  school  that  took  them  up  and  trained  them 
for  the  work  to  which  God  had  called  them.  With  rarely 
more  than  the  imperfect  rudiments  of  an  English  education, 
but  with  minds  fresh  and  thirsting  for  knowledge,  with 
hearts  glowing  with  love  to  Christ,  and  with  bodies  har- 
dened by  toil,  they  began  their  course  as  ministers  of  the 
gospel.  What  they  read  was  of  the  most  solid  character, 
and  in  such  measure  as  enabled  them  to  digest  it  well. 
What  they  gathered  from  books  was  immediately  incorpo- 
rated into  their  own  thinking  and  wrought  into  their  daily 
preaching.  There  was  a  symmetrical  development  of  the 
physical,  mental,  and  spiritual  man,  and  effective,  soul-sav- 
ing preaching  was  the  object  of  all.  They  were  called  self- 
made  men — self-educated — but  perhaps  it  would  be  more 
correct  to  say  that  they  were  educated  in  the  itinerant 
school.  This  was  the  only  school  they  well  could  enter, 
and  for  them  it  was  probably  the  best.  It  was  a  hard  and 
rugged  school,  but  where  the  root  of  the  matter  was  in  the 
men  no  system  could  bring  it  out  so  well.  It  was  eminently 
practical,  not  hampered  with  too  much  art,  and  in  it  the  in- 
dividual gifts  and  characteristics  were  not  so  repressed  as  to 
bring  all  into  one  mold  and  to  conform  all  to  a  single  arbi- 
trary pattern.  Instead  of  unmaking  and  perverting  the 
work  of  God,  it  simply  guided,  pruned,  and  stimulated  the 
natural  powers,  and  turned  the  gifts  of  grace  into  the  most 
effective  channels. 

What  the  itinerant  school  alone  has  done  and  can  do  is 
seen  in  the  history  of  many  noted  preachers  who  never  went 
to  any  other  school.  Had  this  system  taken  them  up  at  the 
10 


140  The  Editou-Bishop, 


end  of  a  full  college  and  seminary  course  they  might  have 
been  more  effective  in  some  directions,  but  not  as  preachers. 
As  preachers,  to  reach  the  masses  and  to  persuade  men  to 
come  to  Christ,  we  doubt  ^vhether  regular  scholastic  train- 
ing would  have  contributed  any  thing  to  their  popularity 
and  power.  On  the  contrary,  they  might  have  been  con- 
siderably shorn  of  their  strength  by  the  more  exact  and 
scientific  methods  of  the  academies  and  universities.  The 
training  of  the  college  and  of  the  itinerant  school  are  not 
necessarily  incompatible,  and  it  is  generally  desirable  that 
our  young  men  should  have  the  advantages  of  both.  The 
great  men  to  whom  we  have  alluded,  however,  stand  as  il- 
lustrations of  what  our  itinerant  system  is  capable  of  doing, 
and  prove  how  wise,  beneficent,  and  effective  it  has  been  in 
giving  to  Jhe  Church  many  of  her  noblest  and  most  eloquent 
and  devoted  preachers.  Vie  know  of  no  other  system  of 
ministerial  training  that  has  equaled  it  in  turning  out  so 
many  truly  great  and  powerful  preachers.  In  no  other 
school  do  preachers  come  in  such  close  contact  with  all 
classes  of  the  people  and  have  such  opportunities  of  study- 
ing human  nature.  And  as  a  school  of  eloquence  what 
other  can  be  compared  with  it?  It  may  be  truly  said  that 
not  many,  in  comparison  with  the  whole  who  have  been  ed- 
ucated in  the  itinerant  school  alone,  have  reached  the  emi- 
nence of  a  Marvin  or  a  Munsey.  But  the  same  is  true  of 
every  system,  only  we  would  claim  that  the  average  power 
and  effectiveness  is  greater  in  ours.  It  does  not  bette^k^gual- 
ify  for  authorship,  for  teaching,  or  for  scholarly  pursuits, 
but  it  is  the  best  school  in  the  world  for  the  training  of 
preachers.  • 

Henceforth  our  candidates  for  the  ministry  Avill  be  better 
educated  than  fornierl}'.  The  times  seem  to  demand  it,  and 
the  opportunities  are  greater  than  they  were  forty  years  ago. 
A  higher  literary  standaid  is  required  at  the  beginning  of 


The  Preacher  in  Methodism.  147 

the  preacher's  course,  but  the  discretion  of  the  Conferences 
should  be  e:iercised  with  care.  Some  of  the  brightest  names 
in  Methodism  have  been  saved  to  her  ministry  by  recogniz- 
ing the  capabilities  of  the  itinerant  school  in  its  func- 
tions of  disciplining  and  informing  the  mind  as  well  as 
in  forming  ministerial  character.  It  may  be  that  there  are 
more  educated  young  men  applying  than  are  needed  to 
fill  the  ranks ;  but  in  drawing  the  line  too  strictly  we  may 
be  throwing  away  some  of  our  choicest  material.  In*  the 
itinerant  school  it  does  not  take  long  to  find  out  whether 
the  novice  is  disposed  to  study  and  whether  he  has  capacity. 
If  he  have  these,  and  the  natural  and  gracious  gifts,  he  is 
in  a  school  where  he  is  sure  to  grow  into  a  useful  preacher. 
The  old  preachers,  who  came  up  from  the  start  through  the 
itinerant  school,  were  usually  most  thorough  in  doctrine. 
If  their  information  was  not  wide  and  varied,  they  knew 
theology  well  and  they  knew  men  well ;  and  if  not  great  in 
science  and  literature,  they  were  mighty  in  the  Scriptures. 
What  our  peculiar  school  did  for  them  is  coming  to  be 
regarded  as  the  verjfcbest  preparation  for  effective  preach- 
ing. It  can  make  great  preachers  without  the  aid  of  other 
schools,  although  it  does  not  depreciate  their  advantages; 
but  with  all  that  other  schools  can  do,  we  cannot  dispense 
wuth  this.  A  system  that  can  point  to  so  many  trophies  of 
its  wisdom  is  not  to  be  despised  as  an  educational  institution. 
There  must  be  something  in  its  curriculum  and  methods  to 
be  adjinired  and  cherished  Avheu  we  remember  the  many 
•  great  agd  devoted  preachers  who  have  been  trained  and  de- 
veloped under  its  influences.  It  has  given  to  the  Church 
sofme  of  the  grandest  characters  that  adorn  the  pages  of  its 
history.  The  mission  of  such  a  system  cannot  end  until 
the  world  is  saved. 


148  TuE  Editor-BisiiOp. 


ONE  ADVANTAGE  OF  ITINERANCY. 

The  itinerancy  comes  nearer  furnishing  the  Church  with 
the  ideal  and  perfect  ministry  than  any  other  system.  It  is 
hardly  possible  that  one  man  should  possess  all  the  excel- 
lences in  their  completest  development  and  exercise.  By  a 
regular  and  comparatively  frequent  change  of  pastors  each 
congregation  shares  the  benefits  of  many  and  varied  gifts. 
Some  men  are  better  pastors  than  othei"s,  some  better  church- 
builders  and  financiers,  some  have  preeminently  the  wisdom 
and  gi-ace  of  good  disciplinarians;  and  every  church  has 
need  of  these  qualities  in  its  pastor  from  time  to  time.  As 
they  are  not  usually  found  in  one  man,  the  advantage  of 
them  all  is  secured  through  the  ministry  of  several.  The 
strong  and  the  brilliant,  the  solid  and  the  entertaining,  the 
instructive  and  the  popular,  are  secured  only  tlirough  change 
and  variety  in  the  preachers.  One  in  a  thousand  may  unite 
all  in  his  single  ministry,  and  some  are  possessed  of  more 
varied  resources  than  others;  but  generally  it  takes  a  great 
many  preachers  to  make  up  a  full  and  effective  ministry. 
Paul  planted  and  Apollos  watered,  ll  took  them  both  to 
meet  the  demand  and  to  do  the  husbandry  of  the  house  of 
God. 

The  doctri_al  preacher  builds  up  on  the  most  holy  faith. 
Under  his  teaching  the  church  is  instructed  in  the  Articles 
of  Religion,  in  the  ordinances,  and  in  the  meaning  of  the 
atonement,  the  divinity  of  Christ,  justification,  sanctifica- 
tion.  In  the  course  of  three  or  four  years  he  has  a  well-in- 
structed church,  well  grounded  in  doctrine,  and  everybody 
convinced  and  settled  in  religious  opinions.  Much  good 
has  been  done,  but  some  classes  have  not  been  reached,  and 
among  the  elect  there  is  desire  for  a .  change  of  spiritual 
food. 

The  more  eloquent  and  hortatory  man — one  who  moves 
on  the  wings  of  tropes  and  figures,  and  whose  sermons  swim 


The  Preacher  in  Methodism.  149 

in  illustrations  and  anecdotes — has  done  a  faithful  work  in 
his  way,  enlisting  interest,  drawing  congregations,  attract- 
ing the  young  people,  and  adding  many  to  the  Church;  but 
in  all  his  term  he  has  perhaps  never  clearly  and  fully  stated 
any  one  of  the  leading  doctrines  of  redemption.  His  hear- 
ers cannot  give  the  meaning  of  justification  nor  tell  the  dif- 
iereuce  between  it  and  sanctifi cation.  General  ideas  they 
have  of  goodness,  grace,  and  salvation,  but  there  is  lack  of 
clear  conceptions  and  of  the  gospel  as  a  system  of  truths. 
Some  will  feel  the  need  of  something  more  solid,  and  others 
who  do  not  feel  the  need  are  the  ones  who,  for  their  own 
good,  most  require  a  change. 

Let  the  doctrinal  man  take  the  place  of  the  more  spright- 
ly, and  let  the  eloquent  and  hortatory  man  take  the  place 
of  the  doctrinal.  Each  is  the  complement  of  the  other — 
supplementing,  perfecting,  and  completing  what  the  other 
did  not  and  perhaps  could  not  do. 

Every  forcible  preacher  will,  in  an  average  pastoral  term, 
impress  himself  upon  the  spiritual  and  intellectual  condition 
of  his  people.  Their  type  and  degree  of  spirituality,  and 
their  grade  of  mind  and  thought,  will  answer  more  or  less 
to  his.  They  will  reflect  what  is  excellent,  but  at  the  same 
.time  they  will  bear  the  impress  of  his  defects  and  infirmities. 
There  are  few  preachers  that  reach  equally  well  all  classes. 
Some  have  gifts  for  the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  the  edifica- 
tion of  the  Church,  and  others  reach  with  most  power  the 
unawakened  and  unconverted.  There  are  those  whose  min- 
istry is  specially  attractive  to  the  poor  and  illiterate,  but 
they  fail  in  reaching  the  better,  educated  and  those  who 
move  in  the  middle  and  higher  walks  of  society.  These 
"gifts  difl^ering"  indicate  the  value  and  necessity  of  inter- 
change of  pastors. 

Looking  at  the  matter  from  this  point  of  view  only,  the 
length  of  pastoral  terms  should  vary  greatly.     Some  men 


1<30  The  Editor-Bishop. 

do  all  they  can  do  profitably  in  a  year,  others  in  four  year?, 
others  in  ten.  If  the  itinerancy  requires  for  its  harmony 
and  maintenance  a  maximum  limit,  our  four-years'  term  is 
probably  about  the  best  that  can  be  fixed.  It  very  nearly 
strikes  the  average  capacity  of  highest  usefulness.  Some 
preachers  might  be  more  eflfective  in  a  much  longer  pastor- 
ate, and  some  churches  lose  something  by  the  change  which 
comes  by  the  limitation,  but  the  majority  are  benefited.  The 
rich  and  diverse  gifts  of  many  are  so  distributed  as  to  work 
together  for  the  building  up  of  the  whole  Church.  The 
benefits  secured  to  the  churches  are  sufficient  to  reconcile 
the  itinerant  to  the  discomforts  of  the  system;  but  he  should 
also  consider  that  while  it  utilizes  him  to  the  greatest  ad- 
vantage to  the  Church  it  also  secures  to  him  better  average 
appointments  than  a  voluntary  system  of  settled  pastorates. 


THE  PREACHER,  YOUNG  AND  OLD. 


THE  YOUNG  PREACHER. 

IN  Methodism  preachers  generally  start  at  an  early  age. 
The  privileges  of  a  collegiate  education,  and  the  growing 
opinion  that  a  theological  course,  post-collegiate,  is  desira- 
ble, tend  to  give  ns  in  these  days  a  more  mature  material 
for  admission  on  trial ;  but  still  the  classes  received  are  usu- 
ally made  up  of  very  young  men — some  of  them  not  yet 
having  reached  their  majority.  Thousands  of  our  middle- 
aged  preachers  were  in  the  saddle  and  riding  circuits  before 
they  were  old  enough  to  vote ;  and  of  the  fathers  and  the  old 
men  fast  passing  away,  the  most  of  them  began  before  they 
needed  a  razor,  which  the  fashion  of  the  times  required 
beard-growing  men  to  use.  Our  system  of  circuits  and 
frequent  changes  is  exceedingly  favorable  to  the  safe  and 
advantageous  employment  of  a  youthful  ministry.  There 
are  safeguards  thrown  around  it  in  the  presiding  eldership 
and  the  senior  preacher,  and  in  the  wise  ordering  of  the 
appointing  power  against  faults  and  errore  in  administra- 
tion ;  and  an  undue  strain  upon  the  mind  and  its  resources 
is  obviated  by  the  brief  term  of  an  annual  pastorate,  usu- 
ally over  a  work  of  several  appointments. 

Not  many  sermons  are  needed  at  the  beginning,  and 
comparatively  few  are  demanded  to  serve  through  the  first 
Conference  year.  The  horseback  travel  gives  due  exercise, 
promotes  the  flow  of  healthful  spirits,  and  is  a  preventive 
of  dyspepsia.  It  is  killing  work  for  a  young  man  of  lim- 
ited education  and  without  experience  to  maintain  himself 
in  a  station  during  iiie  first  yeare  of  his  ministry.     The 

(151) 


152  The  Editor-Bishop. 


circuit  is  the  best  gynmasiuin  in  the  world,  and  the  most 
healthful  school  for  the  development  of  the  ministerial 
character.  It  has  given  soundness  of  body  and  mind  to 
our  preachers,  improved  their  common  sense,  and  secured 
that  practical  qualification  for  the  work  which  neither  books 
nor  lectures  can  afford.  As  a  rule  the  circuit  should  be 
the  young  preacher's  first  work,  whether  he  comes  from 
college,  the  theological  seminary,  or  the  plow.  Collegians 
can  never  be  well-educated  Methodist  preachers  until  they 
have  gone  to  this  most  important  finishing  school,  and  the 
willingness  to  matriculate  in  Brush  College  is  a  tolerable 
test  of  prospective  fitness  for  their  calling.  The  youth  who 
begins  with  a  high  estimate  of  his  claims  to  appointments, 
and  is  offended  by  the  roughness  and  obscurity  of  the  work 
to  which  he  is  sent,  will  hardly  turn  out  well.  He  will 
probably  be  a  dissatisfied  man  all  his  life,  and  will  finally 
quit  the  ministry  or  seek  a  place  in  some  other  Church. 
As  an  itinerant  the  element  of  failure  is  in  him,  and  it  will 
sooner  or  later  develop  into  disaster  to  his  standing  and 
character. 

In  no  other  ministry  does  real  merit  sooner  obtain  fitting 
recognition,  and  in  no  other  does  the  man  more  surely  reach 
the  place  to  which  he  is  best  adapted.  The  bishops,  as 
wise  master-builders,  are  likely  to  put  the  living  stones 
where  they  will  most  strengthen  and  adorn  the  temple,  and 
the  people  will  not  be  slow  to  see  and  appreciate  the  gifts 
and  graces  of  those  who  minister  to  them  in  holy  things. 
It  is  barely  possible  that  some  "  gems  of  purest  ray  serene" 
may  never  come  to  the  surface,  and  that  some  exquisite 
flowers  may  be  left  to  "blush  unseen,"  but,  for  the  most 
part,  with  the  fields  and  the  laborers  given,  the  man  will 
reach  the  position  for  which  he  is  best  fitted  by  character 
and  attainments.  In  no  other  ministry  does  a  young  man 
get  on  faster  than  in  ours.    His  advancement  is  more  rapid 


The  Preacher,  Young  and  Old.  153 

and  the  ground  of  his  elevation  broader  than  in  other 
Churches.  Our  Connectional  system  puts  its  preachers  into 
a  field  not  limited  by  Conference  boundaries,  but  as  wide 
as  the  entire  denomination,  and  his  transfer  to  more  im- 
portant ap|K)iutments  is  effected  with  facility,  without  det- 
riment to  the  Church,  and  without  damage  to  himself 

Woe  to  the  man,  however,  who  in  the  beginning  seeks 
great  things  for  himself,  or  who,  in  the  maturity  of  his  pow- 
ers and  experience,  disparages  his  brethren  and  overesti- 
mates himself!  The  worm  is  in  the  bud,  and  blight  will 
follow.  To  aim  at  greatness  and  usefulness  for  Christ  is 
right,  but  there  must  be  care,  lest  a  wicked  and  selfish  am- 
bition come  to  be  the  overmastering  passion.  It  requires  a 
great  deal  of  grace  to  begin,  and  still  more  of  grace  to  con- 
tinue in  the  work  of  the  ministry.  The  simple  and  glow- 
ing piety  of  the  first  year,  instead  of  being  allowed  to  cool, 
must  be  fed  and  increased  as  the  years  roll  on.  There  is 
no  need  for  a  man  to  think  much  about  his  position  and 
appohitments.  Let  him  make  himself  the  greatest  and  best 
of  men,  an  effective  preacher,  a  good  pastor,  and  show  himself 
"  a  workman  that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed,"  and  the  rest 
will  take  care  of  itself  The  finest-looking  apple  in  the  dish 
often  has  a  blemish — there  is  a  speck  which  tells  of  some- 
thing wrong  at  the  core.  Many  men  feel  that  they  are  not 
appreciated,  and  wonder  why  they  are  kept  in  the  back- 
ground while  others  are  advanced.  Not  always  is  the  ap- 
ple specked  or  decayed,  but  sometimes  it  is;  and  if  not,  it 
may  not  be  as  large  as  some  others.  Where  a  man's  esti- 
mate of  himself  differe  from  that  of  his  brethren,  he  should 
at  least  moderate  his  views  or  keep  them  to  himself. 

The  young  preacher  filled  with  zeal  and  love  is  hopeful, 
and  the  freshness  of  the  dawn  is  on  his  heart.  If  he  has  a 
modest  opinion  of  himself,  has  made  up  his  mind  to  endure 
hardness,  and  feels  called  to  save  souls,'hc  will  be  thankful 


154  The  Editor-Bishop. 

and  satisfied  with  any  appoiutmeut,  and  the  fii-st  years  will 
be  the  happiest  of  all  in  many  respects.  Alter  thirty  or 
forty  years  of  faithful  and  possibly  of  eminent  and  hon- 
ored labor,  he  will  think  of  that  first  circuit  as  the  toiler 
at  evening  remembers  the  blush  and  dew  of  the  morning, 
and  he  will  probably  conclude  that  he  has  all  along  been 
appreciated  and  blessed  far  beyond  his  deservings. 

The  ministry  of  young  men  has  its  special  value.  We 
do  not  see  how  the  Church  could  well  do  without  it.  This 
element  of  youth,  this  young  blood,  this  almost  beardless 
presence,  in  spite  of  its  crudeness  and  incompleteness,  puts 
color  into  the  picture,  and  gives  healthier  tone  to  the  can- 
vas. Gray  hairs  we  must  have  and  the  wisdom  of  years, 
but  we  also  need  the  ruddy  cheek  and  the  locks  that  are 
not  frosted.  The  gardener,  the  florist,  the  fruit-grower,  un- 
derstand that  there  must  be  a  succession  in  their  planting 
and  culture.  There  is  utility  as  well  as  beauty  in  it.  Some 
crops  yield  their  best  results  before  they  reach  maturity. 
They  are  ripe  for  use  long  before  they  go  to  seed,  and  have 
a  worth  because  they  are  immature.  For  some  purposes 
there  is  virtue  in  the  tender  shoot  and  the  fresh-blown  flow- 
er even  more  than  in  the  stalk  and  car.  The  ministry  of 
young  men  carries  with  it  influences  and  sympathies  of  its 
own,  and  its  sphere  is  productive  of  results  of  the  greatest 
value  to  the  Church.  It  has  a  temperament,  a  faith,  and 
an  elasticity  which  bring  success  and  effect  results  peculiar 
to  itself.  The  field  of  usefulness  is  not  alone  before  the 
young  man,  and  for  which  he  is  preparing,  but  it  is  around 
him,  and  he  is  gathering  his  best  sheaves  while  he  feels,  per- 
haps, that  he  is  only  getting  ready  to  sow.  While  he  sharp- 
ens his  sickle  he  is  amidst  the  waving  corn  and  thrusting  it 
in.  The  first-fruits  of  our  ministerial  life  are  often  the 
choicest,  as  they  should  be  the  earnest  and  })romise  of 
abundant  usefulness  in  the  future. 


The  Preacher,  Young  and  Old.  loo 

The  young  preacher  must  make  himself.  The  kingdom 
is  within  him.  Prayer,  study,  and  work  will  develop  and 
bring  it  out.  After  all  the  advantages  of  education,  and 
after  all  the  advice  sought,  the  preacher  must  be  self-made. 
I^et  him  make  the  most  of  what  he  is  and  of  what  God  has 
given  him,  and  he  will  reach  the  highest  round  to  which  he 
is  capable  of  mounting.  He  must  grow  like  a  tree  rathfir't" 
than  be  built  up  like  a  wall.  Let  him  take  care  about  the 
too  close  imitation  of  admired  models,  and  avoid  depend- 
ence upon  published  skeletons.  Above  all,  do  not  preach 
other  men's  sermons.  The  mind  and  heart  will  suffer  from 
such  a  course,  and  the  preaching  will  be  barren  and  un- 
fruitful. Some  young  men  have  fallen  into  this  evil,  this 
dishonest  practice  of  supplying  themselves  with  custom- 
made  sermons,  such  as  the  English  market  supplies  for  a 
shilling  apiece,  and  others  use  the  stenograjihic  reports  of 
the  popular  preachers  of  the  day.  No  matter  >vhether  the 
theft  is  found  out  or  not,  the  man  ^Yho  forms  this  habit 
curses  himself,  and  when  detected  he  forfeits  the  respect  of 
his  hearers. 

God  bless  the  young  preacher  who  sets  out  this  year,  in 
whatever  Conference,  and  under  whatever  conditions  of 
weakness  or  strength.  It  is  the  beginning  of  a  path  that 
has  many  rugged  passages,  many  dark  defiles  of  temptation 
and  sorrow,  and  many  conflicts  with  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness. But  it  is  also  a  course  which  has  large  and  gracious 
compensations,  and  one  that,  if  faithfully  pursued,  brings 
him  to  an  incorruiitible  crown. 


THE  OLD  PREACHER. 

The  old  as  distinguished  from  the  young — the  man  of 
age  and  experience  rather  than  the  novice.  In  our  system 
the  age  of  the  man  generally  corresponds  with  his  ministe- 


156  The  EDixoR-BisHor. 

rial  life.  The  man  of  forty  has  probably  been  ji reaching 
at  least  twenty  years,  and  the  man  of  sixty  has  usually  seen 
his  forty  years  of  eflective  service.  These  years  have  been 
devoted  to  study  and  labor,  and  the  education  and  charac- 
ter have  been  acquired  while  riding  circuits  and  doing  pas- 
toral work.  After  so  long  a  term,  the  fittest  only  are  likely 
to  survive.  In  some  sort  the  office  of  natural  selection  has 
retained  in  the  effective  ranks  the  best  physical  constitu- 
tions, the  most  devoted  piety,  and  the  sturdiest  qualities  of 
soul.  The  diseased  and  feeble  have  fallen  at  their  posts, 
the  weak  and  vacillating  have  turned  aside  to  other  pur- 
suits, the  wicked  have  gone  back  to  the  world.  Many,  still 
faithful  and  true,  by  affliction  have  been  compelled  to  retire 
from  the^ore  active  sphere  of  toil.  The  residue  of  effect- 
ive men  is,  as  a  class,  made  of  choice  material,  and  from 
forty  to  sixty-five  should  be  at  their  best.  The  rich  stores, 
so  long  in  the  gathering,  should  appear  in  the  sermon,  and 
a  ripe  experience  and  a  mellow  piety  should  make  their  vis- 
its to  the  homes  of  the  people  most  comforting  and  edifying. 
And  so  it  is  with  the  man  of  one  work,  who  has  gone 
steadily  forward,  developing  his  spiritual  and  intellectual 
powers  in  a  strong  and  healthy  way.  He  has  become  apt 
to  teach.  He  is  familiar  with  the  processes  of  the  Spirit  in 
the  awakening  and  conversion  of  souls,  and  as  a  fisher  of 
men  he  has  learned  to  handle  the  gospel-net  with  sound 
judgment  and  adroitness.  With  ordinarily  good  health, 
ihere  should  be  no  abatement  in  these  middle  years  of  fer- 
vidness  of  spirit,  of  sprightly  thought,  or  of  powerful  and 
moving  utterance.  The  breadth,  depth,  and  strength  should 
still  be  attended  by  the  brightness  and  flexibility  of  youth. 
The  old  and  the  young  tree  are  alike  in  the  freshness  of 
their  foliage  and  in  the  sweetness  and  beauty  of  their  blos- 
soms. In  order  to  continued  and  increased  effectiveness, 
men  must  keej)  growing.     They  must  grow  both  in  grace 


The  Pkeacher,  Young  and  Old.  1o7 

and  iu  knowledge.  All  the  powers  must  be  kept  up  to  their 
full  strength  by  assiduous  culture,  and  the  whole  man  kept 
in  tone  by  unabated  diligence.  Alexander  Hamilton,  amidst 
the  busiest  cares  of  his  profession  and  the  engrossing  occu- 
pations of  statesmanship,  went  through  his  Euclid  frequent- 
ly. To  keep  the  mind  up  to  its  highest  working  capacity 
there  must  be  hard  study  for  merely  disciplinary  purposes. 

It  is  not  unusual  for  middle-aged  men,  and  for  those  who 
have  passed  the  period  when  soldiers  are  drafted,  to  be  pain- 
fully conscious  of  an  inaptitude  for  severe  mental  labor. 
Growth  has  ceased,  and  regression,  after  a  brief  stand-still,  is 
sure  to  set  in.  The  very  excellences  of  mature  life  are  apt 
to  degenerate  into  defects.  In  youth  much  pruning  was  to 
be  done,  and  as  intelligence  increased  and  the  tast^  became 
more  severe  and  cultivated,  extravagances  in  manner  and 
style  have  been  lopped  off  and  repressed.  Perhaps  in  this 
process  the  other  extreme  has  been  reached,  and  not  only 
the  wildness  and  over-exuberance  have  been  cheeked,  but 
baldness  and  comparative  sterility  have  ensued.  With  im- 
proved taste  and  wider  culture,  the  preacher  should  culti- 
vate the  imagination,  and  not  be  parsimonious  in  the  de- 
scriptive colors  which  he  throws  into  his  well-studied  themes. 
Let  him  not  go  too  far  in  pruning,  and  let  him  aim  to  enrich 
and  beautify  while  he  strives  after  the  solid  and  enduring. 
Many  an  old  preacher  would  be  the  better  for  it  if  he  should 
go  back  tw  enty  years  and  pick  up  and  put  on  what  ho  then 
cast  aside  as  blemishes  and  vanities. 

The  good-ground  hearers  are  mostly  young  people,  and  to 
reach  its  greatest  effectiveness  there  must  be  an  element  of 
youth  in  the  sermon.  A  little  of  the  sophomoric  is  wis- 
dom sure  enough  in  dealing  with  the  average  congregation. 
Young,  fresh,  and  simple  in  style  and  thought,  and  with 
spiritual  unction  attending,  there  will  always  be  a  hearty 
response  from  those  who  are  likely  to  be  reached  by  any 


108  The  Editor-Bishop. 


means  whatever.  It  is  the  youthfulness  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's 
preaching  more  than  any  thing  else  that  accounts  for  his 
wonaerful  success  in  the  pulpit.  He  is  doctrinal,  expository, 
descriptive,  practical,  sympathetic,  and  always  young.  He 
was  a  mere  boy  when  he  began,  and  he  preaches  very  much 
like  a  boy  now  that  he  is  in  the  forties.  It  is  not  difficult, 
in  looking  into  some  matronly  faces,  to  recall  the  beauty  and 
delicacy  of  girlhood.  In  spiritual  faces,  however  changed 
by  age  and  care,  these  qualities  come  out  and  glow  with  the 
distinctness  of  a  transfiguration.  Th^gloud  of  years,  in- 
stead of  obscuring,  only  gives  greater  softness  and  sweetness 
to  the  light  that  dwelt  upon  the  brow  of  youth.  It  is  most 
unfortunate  for  the  brain  to  be  allowed  to  grow  stiff  and  in- 
flexible in  its  action  and  for  the  heart  to  become  dull  and 
indifferent  in  its  emotions.  It  is  scarcely  less  unfortuate  to 
lose  the  freshness  and  simplicity  of  early  years  and  to  fiill 
into  tastes  and  habits  of  thought  w'hich  quench  the  fires  of 
a  more  enthusiastic  period.  As  youth  reaches  forward  to 
grasp  the  wisdom  of  age,  so  age  should  strive  to  bring  back 
and  retain  the  freshness  of  youth. 

Age,  however,  has  invaluable  qualities  of  its  own,  and 
resources  of  usefulness  that  only  age  can  give.  Our  old 
preachers  are  a  perpetual  benediction  to  the  Church,  and 
their  presence  and  labors  are  necessary  to  the  completeness 
of  the  whole.  Their  preaching,  while  it  may  retain  much 
of  the  characteristics  of  earlier  days,  has  in  it  an  authority, 
weight,  and  power  which  come  of  time  well  improved.  Ev- 
ery congregation  needs  a  due  portion  of  such  ministries,  and 
should,  if  possible,  have  the  privilege  of  profiting  by  them. 
Their  knowledge  of  Scripture,  their  large  acquaintance  with 
men,  and  their  profound  experience  in  the  deep  things  of 
God  qualify  them  for  usefulness  to  which  younger  men  can- 
not attain.  The  fruit  of  old  age  is  the  most  indispensable 
of  all  to  the  feeding  of  the  flock  of  God.     The  hoary  head 


The  Preacher,  Young  and  Old.  1."39 

is  not  only  a  crown  of  glory  to  him  who  wears  it,  but  it  is 
a  diadem  of  beauty  and  power  to  the  Christian  ministry. 

The  abuse  of  this  general  principle  lies  chiefly  in  the  spe- 
cial claims  which  old  men  sometimes  base  upon  their  years. 
Much  is  due  them,  no  doubt,  on  the  score  of  long  service 
and  ripe  experience,  but  in  their  self-consciousness  and  ut- 
terances this  ground  of  consideration  may  be  made  offen- 
sively prominent.  It  is  better  to  let  the  fact  assert  itself, 
and  to  let  character  and  influence  stand  upon  their  own 
merit.  To  be  over-sej|Bitive  and  exacting,  and  to  seem  jeal- 
ous of  the  respect  dufif^to  age,  are  infirmities  to  be  guarded 
against.  The  psalmist  enforces  an  important  lesson  by  al- 
lusion to  his  years  when  he  says:  "I  have  been  young,  and 
now  am  old ;  A'et  have  I  not  seen  the  righteous  forsaken,  nor 
his  seed  begging  bread."  The  great  apostle  in  his  appeal  to 
Philemon,  for  the  only  time  in  all  his  writings  speaks  of 
himself  as  "Paul  the  aged."  We  recall  no  other  instances 
in  which  inspired  men  have  sought  to  strengthen  their  dec- 
laraticms  and  teachings  by  reference  to  their  years.  Jacob, 
when  in  the  presence  of  Pharaoh,  makes  but  a  modest  reply 
to  the  monarch's  question,  "I low  old  art  thou?"  when  he 
says :  "  The  days  of  the  years  of  my  pilgrimage  are  a  hun- 
dred and  thirty  years;  few  and  evil  have  the  days  of  the 
years  of  my  life  been,  and  have  not  attained  unto  the  days 
of  the  years  of  the  life  of  my  fathers  in  the  days  of  their 
pilgrimage."  That  elderly  men  are  not  as  much  sought 
after  and  are  not  as  acceptable  as  the  younger  may  be  part- 
ly their  own  fault.  The  clamor  for  young  men  may  be 
largely  unreasonable,  but  in  the  ministry,  as  in  other  pur- 
suits, there  must  be  effectiveness. 

The  most  difficult  thing  of  all  is  to  recognize  the  advance 
of  age  in  ourselvc?,  and  to  yield  gracefully  to  the  inexorable 
lot.  One  of  the  trials  of  middle  life  is  the  thought  dPa  des- 
titute old  age.    On  one  occasion  the  preachers  asked  Mr. 


160  The  Editor-Bishop. 


Asbury  what  they  were  to  do  when  they  became  old.  The 
old  Bishop  comforted  them  with  the  sage  reflection  that  not 
many  of  them  would  probably  live  to  be  old.  Prudence 
and  economy  will  help,  but  in  most  cases  preachers  can 
barely  support  their  families  and  live.  They  must  walk  by 
faith,  and  not  by  sight.  They  will  do  rather  better  than 
the  average  of  men  in  secular  afiairs  at  the  worst.  But  the 
devoted  preacher  has  a  right  to  trust  the  Master  whom  he 
serves.  God  will  take  care  of  wife  and  children  and  old 
age,  if  he  is  faithful  to  his  high  calling.  Some,  in  sheer 
affright  and  desperation,  turn  to  other  pursuits;  but  owing 
to  lack  of  experience  and  business  habits,  and  to  an  unfit- 
nesa  which  their  previous  life  has  superinduced,  they  fail. 
Generally,  it  would  be  better  and  wiser  to  stick  to  the  gos- 
pel-plow, though  driven  through  the  most  barren  soil.  To 
quit  in  raid-career  is  to  lose  to  the  Church  and  themselves 
the  results  of  years  of  study  and  experience.  The  sun  sets 
with  a  peculiar  splendor  upon  a  full  day's  work  faithfully 
done 


THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WORLD. 


ADDED  TO  THE  CHURCH. 

THIS,  at  any  rate,  is  the  scriptural  way  of  stating  the 
fact.  A  divine  agency  is  recognized.  The  Lord  added. 
The  three  thousand  voluntarily  joined  the  Christian  compa- 
ny, but  they  were  led  to  this  by  the  moving  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  the  apostles  by  divine  authority  received  them. 
Besides  their  baptism  and  their  formal  reception,  there  was 
a  work  of  grace  in  their  hearts.  It  is  Christ's  prerogative 
to  add  people  to  the  Church.  Where  the  union  is  vital,  and 
something  more  than  a  mere  form,  it  is  the  work  of  Christ. 
Numbei-s  may  have  been  "joined  in,"  as  some  express  it, 
but  whether  they  have  been  truly  added  depends  on  the  part 
which  Christ  has  performed. 

The  persons  whom  the  Lord  added  are  described  as  the 
saved — not  such  as  should  be  saved,  but  the  saved ;  so  the 
best  critics,  Calvinistic  and  Arminian,  agree.  It  is  a  fact 
in  the  narrative  concerning  the  day  of  Pentecost.  Those 
added  to  the  Church  on  that  day  were  of  this  sort.  Our , 
usage  and  discipline  require  that  those  received  "desire  to 
flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  and  to  be  saved  from  their  sins ; " 
and  they  are  further  required  solemnly,  in  the  presence  of 
God  and  of  the  congregation,  "to  ratify  and  confirm  the 
promise  and  vow  of  repentance,  faith,  and  obedience  con- 
tained in  the  baptismal  covenant."  If  these  conditions  ex- 
ist, they  are  as  much  as  the  Church  can  demand,  and  are  a 
sufficient  ground  for  admission  to  Church- membership. 
But  surely,  in  view  of  the  example  in  the  Acts,  less  than 
these  conditions  should  not  be  regarded  as  meeting  the  re- 
quirement. 00t 
11                                                                                 (161) 


162  The  Editok-JLJishop. 


The  conduct  of  those  added  exhibits  the  reality  of  their 
union  with  the  Church — steadfastness  in  doctrine.  "They 
continued  steadfastly  in  the  apostle's  doctrine."  There  was 
a  doctrinal  basis  for  their  faith.  They  were  well  rooted  in 
the  truth,  and  were  firm  in  their  adherence  to  the  gospel. 
"Fellowship"  was  with  them  distinctly  realized.  The  com- 
munion of  saints  was  a  living  and  felt  experience.  Noth- 
ing more  clearly  distinguishes  vital  from  formal  Christian- 
ity than  this.  Fellowship  is  something  spiritual,  and  none 
but  the  spiritually-minded  know  what  it  is.  It  is  the 
living  tie  that  binds  the  hearts  of  God's  children  in  one; 
it  is  the  antidote  to  bigotry,  sectarian  acrimony,  and  all  un- 
charitableness.  Thousands  of  Christians  in  name  are  stran- 
gers to  the  fellowship  of  the  apostles.  In  this  respect  they 
have  not  been  added  to  the  Church ;  they  are  in  it,  but  not 
of  it. 

The  ordinances  w  ere  observed  by  these  first  Church-mem- 
bers. Breaking  of  bread  may  stand  for  all — the  Lord's 
Supper  and  the  rest.  They  continued  in  them  steadfastly. 
If  fit  to  be  in  the  Church,  we  are  fit  to  partake  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  In  what  good  sense  is  any  one  added  to  the  Church 
who  neglects  this  plain  duty  and  important  means  of  grace? 
It  is  something  very  sacred,  but  it  should  not  repel  the  truly 
jjenitent  and  those  who  intend  to  lead  a  new  life.  It  was 
designed  to  help  the  weak,  and  to  strengthen  and  comfort 
all.  The  sincere,  the  contrite,  the  soul  that  is  striving  to 
Avalk  in  the  narrow  path,  should  be  steadfast  "in  breaking 
of  bread."  If  baptism  is  the  ordinance  of  admission,  the 
Lord's  Supper  is  the  ordinance  of  continuance  in  the 
Church. 

Those  whom  the  Lord  added  to  the  Church  are  represent- 
ed as  continuing  in  prayers.  They  were  converted  in  a 
prayewneeting ;  in  a  meeting  of  great  j)ower  and  abundant 
supplication  they  were  brought  into  the  company  of  the 


The  C'hurch  in  the  World.  1G3 

disciples.  As  they  began  in  prayer,  so  they  kept  on.. 
"  Prayer  "  is  the  word.  Social  prayer,  family  and  private 
— this  is  the  threefold  cord  that  is  not  easily  broken.  How 
can  a  prayerless  man  be  said  to  be  a  member  of  the  Church? 
And  if  he  does  not  pray  in  all  these  ways,  is  he  of  those 
whom  the  Lord  has  added?  A  man  may  have  no  family, 
he  may  be  tongue-tied,  or  have  other  infirmities  that  shut 
him  out  from  other  than  secret  prayer ;  but  his  excuse  must 
be  a  good  one,  or  he  is  inevitably  condemned.  If  the  new 
member  does  not  begin  to  pray  and  keep  it  up — in  the 
prayer-meeting,  in  the  family,  and  in  the  closet,  he  back- 
slides rapidly,  or  he  was  never  enough  of  a  Christian  to 
make  backsliding  possible. 

We  might  notice  other  characteristics  of  those  whom  the 
Lord  added  to  the  Church,  such  as  their  liberality  with 
their  goods,  their  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart,  and  that 
they  continued  praising  God,  "having  favor  with  all  the 
people."  Some  of  these  thousands  may  have  fallen  out  by 
the  way,  but  they  started  off  well,  and  continued  for  some 
time  in  a  manner  that  proved  that  Christ  himself  had 
brought  them  into  the  Church,  and  augured  favorably  for 
their  faithfulness  to  the  end.  Such  additions  are  something 
added  to  the  Church.  Each  one  counts  in  making  up  the 
strength  and  power  of  the  whole.  The  measure  of  resourc- 
es is  enlarged,  there  is  an  accession  of  workers,  and  the  spir- 
itual momentum  is  increased.  Where  there  is  a  large  in- 
crease of  numbers  without  any  corresponding  increase  of 
strength  morally,  spiritually,  or  financially,  the  Lord's  hand 
is  not  as  manifest  as  we  could  wish.  If  the  Lord  adds  to  the 
Church  there  will  be  results,  the  work  will  be  lasting,  and 
the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  will  appear  in  manifold  ways. 

Our  dependence  upon  Christ  is  absolute.  The  means 
must  be  recognized  and  plied  with  earnestness ;  bufl^Jt  us  be 
sure  that  the  Lord  does  the  work.     In  the  main  the  hay, 


164  The  Editou-Bishop. 


wood,  and  stubble  are  our  Avork.  Christ's  hand  is  with  oure 
in  the  gold,  silver,  and  precious  stones.  Awakened  people 
doubtless  need  instruction  on  the  subject  of  joining  the 
Church,  and  often  need  to  be  pressed  to  take  the  step,  but 
the  hard  work  is  to  lead  them  to  repentance  and  prepare 
Ihera  for  admission.  When  men  are  broken  up  under  the 
hammer  of  the  word,  and  deeply  wrought  upon  by  the  Spir- 
it, and  when  converted,  it  requires  little  effort  to  bring  them 
into  the  Church;  they  cannot  easily  be  kept  out  of  it. 
Those  that  ai'e  saved,  or  are  being  saved,  are  pretty  certain 
to  seek  the  fellowship  of  God's  people.  The  Lord  adds 
such  to  the  Church.  They  come  as  pereons  graciously 
di-awn  by  the  Saviour  himself,  and  prepared  to  make  a  good 
profession.  

CHURCH  PILLARS. 

There  »?ere  a  dozen  apostles,  but  of  these  Paul  tells  us 
that  James,  Cephas,  and  John  "seemed  to  be  pillars"  in 
the  Church  at  Jerusalem.  Very  different  kinds  of  men 
were  they,  but  each  one  was  strong  and  useful  in  his  way. 
The  living  architecture  of  the  house  of  God  embraces  this 
conception  of  the  superior  strength  and  value  of  some  of 
its  parts.  In  almost  every  organization,  even  of  a  denomi- 
national breadth,  there  are  of  necessity  those  who  have  this 
eminence  of  character  and  responsibility.  On  them  largely 
rests  the  structure  to  which  they  belong;  and  the  stability 
and  safety  of  the  whole  depend  upon  their  capacity  and 
wisdom.  In  every  society  there  are  usually  those  who  seem 
to  be  pillars — sometimes  more  in  the  seeming  than  in  the 
reality.  It  is  a  fortunate  thing  for  a  Church  to  have  in  it 
enough  of  this  sort  of  material — of  men  whose  broad  views, 
love  for  Christ,  and  weight  of  position  and  influence,  can 
give  tone  and  power  to  the  whole  body. 

Both  for  strength  and  beauty  are  pillars  needed.     That 


The  Church  in  the  World.  1G5 


is  an  incomplete  edifice,  weak  and  impotent,  that  is  without 
them.  Many  a  Church  enterprise  has  failed,  and  many  an 
organization  has  come  to  naught,  because  it  had  none  of 
these  strong  and  capable  shafts  to  support  it.  The  house 
has  not  been  built;  or  if  built,  it  has  tumbled  down  for  the 
want  of  pillars.  The  character  of  a  Church  is  usually 
shaped  and  determined  by  a  few.  Around  them  cluster  the 
details  of  the  structure,  and  the  general  effect  is  decided  by 
the  order  and  material  of  their  composition.  The  piety,  the 
intelligence,  the  method  and  quality  of  the  benevolence,  and 
the  respect  which  a  Church  commands,  depend  upon  the 
foremost  spirits  in  it.  Not  all  afler  the  same  pattern  per- 
haps, but  all  should  be  sound  and  equal  to  the  responsibil- 
ity. Whether  Doric  or  Corinthian,  Roman,  Byzantine,  or 
Saracenic,  they  are  to  help  in  sustaining  the  precious  bur- 
den that  is  laid  upon  them,  and  in  maintaining  the  symme- 
try, harmony,  and  unity  of  the  edifice.  They  are  plain, 
ornate,  solid,  graceful,  but  all  useful  in  their  places,  and 
all  contributing  to  the  stability  and  glory  of  the  temple. 

Church  pillars  may  represent  not  alone  the  eminent  in 
gifls  and  influence,  but  also  the  stable  elements  of  the  so- 
ciety or  congregation.  There  is  always  a  volatile  and  rest- 
less material,  composed  of  those  who  float  like  the  sea-weed. 
They  are  never  well  rooted,  but  move  about  from  church  to 
church,  or  simply  hover  on  the  outskirts,  with  no  very  vital 
tie  to  the  main  body.  They  have  no  earnest  purpose,  no 
serious  idea  of  personal  effort  and  work  for  Christ.  Work 
for  the  Church,  and  in  it,  is  not  in  their  comprehension  of 
duty  and  obligation.  Their  relation  to  the  Church  is  that 
of  incidental  beneficiaries,  who  feel  themselves  entitled  to 
what  they  may  see  and  hear  and  enjoy,  Avithout  contrib- 
uting any  thing  beyond  their  fitful  presence  to  the  life  and 
expansion  of  the  divine  kingdom  in  the  world.  .They  are 
pillars  who  constitute  the  nucleus  of  power  and  effective- 


166  '       The  Editok-Bishop. 

ness,  always  in  their  places,  and  faithful  to  the  post  of  duty 
under  all  circumstances.  They  are  as  much  a  part  of  the 
religious  body  as  a  pillar  is  a  part  of  the  house,  and  as  per- 
manent and  steadfast  in  their  relations  to  it  as  the  columns 
which  bore  upon  their  capitals  the  arches  and  cornices  of 
Carnac  or  the  Parthenon. 

The  progress  and  prosperity  of  a  Church  depend  greatly 
upon  this  strong,  healthful  heart,  whose  throbs  keep  up  the 
circulation  and  vitality  of  the  organization.  This  is  to  the 
whole  as  the  citadel  to  the  wide-spread  and  more  vulner- 
able town.  It  is  the  stronghold  and  the  hope  of  the 
cause  of  Christ  in  every  Church  and  community.  This 
old  guard,  well  disciplined,  always  in  battle  array,  and 
knowing  nothing  but  fidelity  and  obedience,  is  the  only  de- 
pendence. In  this  respect  every  Christian  may  and  ought 
to  be  a  pillar.  All  should  be  planted  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord,  even  built  into  it  as  an  ornament  and  a  support,  and 
contributing  in  due  measure  to  the  firmness  and  comeliness 
of  the  building.  In  fact,  however,  the  pillars — as  compared 
with  the  lighter  and  more  chafty  material — are  few.  The 
Church,  as  "the  pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth,"  is  made 
up  of  the  faithful  ones,  and  by  them  the  truth  is  exhibite<l 
and  spread  abroad.  Between  the  real  Church  and  the  world 
there  is  this  boundary  between  light  and  shade — a  penum- 
bra which  partakes  almost  equally  of  the  good  and  the  bad. 

Another  asjiect  of  Church  pillars  is  given  in  the  promise 
to  the  church  in  Philadelphia:  "Him  that  overcometh  will 
I  make  a  pillar  in  the  temple  of  my  God,  and  he  shall  go 
no  more  out."  The  reference  is  probably  to  monumental 
pillars,  as  the  promise  continues:  "And  I  will  write  upon 
him  the  name  of  my  God,  and  the  name  of  the  city  of  my 
God,  which  is  new  Jerusalem,  which  cometh  down  out  of 
heaven  from  ray  God ;  and  I  will  write  upon  him  my  new 
name."     A  faithful  Christian  here  is  always  a  monument 


The  Church  in  the  World.  167 

of  grace.  He  bears  inscriptions  which  God  has  written,  but 
his  office  is  service  chiefly,  rather  than  reward.  To  be  made 
a  pillar  in  heaven  is  the  promise  to  him  that  overcometh. 
Whatever  of  this  honor  and  glory  comes  within  the  expe- 
rience here,  the  most  is  beyond  earth,  and  in  the  world  of 
light.  Not  every  believer,  by  reason  of  extraordinary  of- 
fice or  endowments,  can  be  counted  as  a  pillar  in  the  house 
of  God  on  earth,  but  the  humblest  who  has  overcome  will 
be  a  pillar  in  heaven.  And  those  who  have  been  pillars  in 
the  militant  church  by  their  firmness  and  fidelity  in  the 
work  of  Christ,  shall  have  the  peculiar  distinction  of  ex- 
hibiting through  all  eternity  the  love  of  Him  who  has  re- 
deemed them  from  sin  and  death. 

From  the  earthly  temple  the  pillars  are  removed;  the 
strongest  and  most  graceful  are  broken  by  age  and  death. 
The  Jachin  and  Boaz  of  Solomon's  temple,  and  the  great 
temple  itself,  are  no  more.  The  pillars  of  Trajan,  Pompey, 
and  the  Column  Vendome  must  perish ;  the  sculpture,  the 
entablatures,  the  reliefs  and  hieroglyphics  of  ancient  art, 
and  all  the  devices  and  records  of  earthly  heraldry,  are 
doomed  to  pass  and  fade  away.  Him  that  overcometh  shall 
alone  bear  the  imperishable  name  and  forever  wear  the  me- 
morials of  triumph.  "  He  shall  go  no  more  out."  A  mon- 
ument of  mercy  and  grace,  shining  resplendent  with  the 
glory  of  holiness  and  in  the  light  of  God,  he  is  to  shine  on 
and  forever.  These  are  the  pillar-saints  of  the  Bible ;  not 
ascetics  who  have  stood  on  pillars,  but  faithful  workers  in 
the  Church  below,  crowned  and  emblazoned  as  pillars  in 
heaven. 

COUNTING  THE  COST. 

The  Saviour  introduces  the  cases  of  building  a  tower  and 
of  the  king  going  to  war  to  illustrate  the  importance  of  ac- 
quainting ourselves  with  the  conditions  of  discipleship  be- 


168  The  Editok-Bishop. 

forehand,  and  in  vindication  of  his  method  of  declaring  to 
those  who  waited  on  his  ministry  what  this  discipleship  im- 
plied. The  illustrations  are  flanked  by  these  strong  decla- 
rations: "And  whosoever  doth  not  bear  his  cross  and  come 
after  me  cannot  be  my  disciple."  "  So,  likewise,  whosoever 
he  be  of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath,  he  cannot 
be  my  disciple,"  This  was  a  severe  method,  apparently 
discouraging  to  awakened  souls,  and  more  calculated  to  re- 
pel than  attract.  But  it  was  the  Great  Teacher's  way,  and, 
as  he  explains,  the  only  true  way.  It  was  best  that  those 
Avho  were  concerned  for  their  souls  should  fully  comprehend 
the  nature  of  his  discipleship  and  the  obligations  which  it 
imposed.  Before  laying  the  foundations  of  the  tower,  the 
cost  of  finishing  it  should  be  counted;  before  making  war, 
the  means  of  carrying  it  on  should  be  estimated. 

The  illustration  applies  only  to  this  one  point:  the  abso- 
lute self-surrender  and  consecration  which  Christian  disci- 
pleship demands.  The  help  needed,  the  grace  demanded  to 
assure  of  perseverance  are  matters  of  promise  and  of  faith. 
The  question  to  be  considered  and  settled  at  the  outset  is : 
Are  we  prepared  to  bear  our  cross  and  to  forsake  all  that 
we  have?  The  principle  involved  in  those  conditions  runs 
through  the  entire  Christian  life.  It  describes  a  consecra- 
tion of  heart  that  is  complete,  and  a  life  that  is  marked  by 
self-sacrificing  devotion.  Christ's  yoke  is  easy,  but  only  so 
to  those  who  take  it;  and  his  burden  is  light,  but  only  so 
to  those  who  bear  it.  After  the  surrender  is  made,  and  the 
service  is  heartily  accepted,  happiness  flows  in  and  satisfies 
the  soul.  In  forsaking  all,  we  gain  all ;  and  in  bearing  our 
cross,  we  attain  to  the  fellowship  of  the  Saviour's  joy.  Nev- 
ertheless, there  is  a  yoke  and  there  is  a  burden.  If  these 
are  not  consciously  and  willingly  accepted — if  all  they  in- 
volve is  not  apprehended — there  is  a  fatal  defect  in  our  dis- 
cipleship, and  the  probability  is  tJiat  the  tower  of  Christian 


The  Church  in  the  World.  169 

character  will  be  left  unfinished,  and  that  the  war  upon 
which  "\ve  have  entered  will  end  in  humiliation  and  defeat. 

Is  it  not  better  to  lead  inquirers  on  by  some  easier  meth- 
od, and  to  keep  back  these  sterner  features  of  dlsc'pleship 
until  there  has  been  some  growth  and  maturity  in  experi- 
ence? Can  we  not  attract  and  lure  people  to  Christ  while 
these  conditions  are  masked  and  wreathed  with  fragrant 
and  encouraging  promises?  It  is  true  that  he  who  repents 
and  believes  shall  be  saved.  He  that  is  athirst  may  come, . 
and  whosoever  will.  Christ  has  said :  "And  him  that  com- 
eth  unto  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  He  promises  rest 
to  the  weary  and  heavy-laden  if  they  will  come  unto  him. 
And  yet  all  these  promises  and  invitations  must  be  inter- 
preted in  the  light  of  the  declaration,  "  Whosoever  he  be 
of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath,  he  cannot  be  my 
disciple."  The  Saviour  puts  this  in  the  front  of  all  his  in- 
vitations, and  insists  that  his  discipleship  is  an  impossibility 
until  the  surrender  is  made.  What  then?  He  would  guard 
against  self-deception,  against  a  discipleship  that  was  partial 
and  wanting  in  reality  and  stability.  The  man  who  count- 
ed the  cost  and  accepted  Christ  with  all  that  the  act  im- 
plied, would  hold  out  and  be  a  disciple  indeed ;  while  he 
who  followed  impulses  destitute  of  strong  convictions  would 
delude  himself  and  fail  in  the  end.  The  plain  meaning  of 
Christ's  cautionary  words  is  that  a  profession  of  religion, 
of  faith  in  Christ,  is  a  very  serious  and  impoi-tant  step,  and 
that  ixjople  should  know  well  what  they  are  doing  when 
they  assume  the  vows  of  discipleship. 

By  whatever  impulse  moved,  and  under  whatever  influ- 
ences, if  there  have  been  no  self-surrender,  no  covenant  of 
cross-bearing,  no  purpose  of  the  absolute  following  of  Christ, 
there  is  in  the  endeavor  an  element  of  weakness  and  fail- 
ure. This  kind  of  discipleship  becomes  a  chronio  seeking 
without  finding,  a  periodical  Awakening  which  must  be  an- 


170  The  Editor-Bishop. 

nually  renewed — a  religion  that  is  utterly  shallow,  and  de- 
void of  living  and  abiding  power.  The  cost  of  being  a 
Christian  must  be  counted  at  the  start.  The  gate  is  strait 
herein.  Christ  puts  the  counting  at  the  door  of  entrance. 
All  sin  must  be  given  up,  all  unspiritual  pleasures.  Prop- 
erty and  life  must  be  laid  upon  the  altar.  Talents,  learn- 
ing, character,  influence,  time,  must  be  devoted  supremely  to 
Ch rist ;  the  affections,  with  the  lusts,  must  be  crucified.  Here 
is  a  glance  at  the  cost  to  be  counted.  Are  we  willing  to  have 
discipleship  at  this  cost?  Have  we  got  our  own  full  and 
unreserved  consent  to  the  surrender?  If  so,  the  way  is 
open  through  faith  into  the  holy  of  holies.  The  gleamings 
of  the  shekinah  over  the  blood  of  the  mercy-seat  begin  al- 
ready to  irradiate  the  souL  When  the  cost  has  been  count- 
ed and  accepted  one  great  barrier  to  faith  is  broken  down, 
and  the  way  of  the  penitent  to  the  cross  is  comparatively 
easy.    He  could  never  get  there  otherwise. 

But  we  must  not  mislead.  There  are  some  who  seem  to 
halt  between  this  self-surrender  and  faith.  They  have  given 
up  all,  and  yet  the  light  does  not  dawn.  Remember  only  a 
moral  obstacle  to  faith  has  been  removed,  and  faith  does 
not  look  back  even  upon  that,  but  forward  and  to  the  pre- 
cious blood  alone.  Without  giving  up  all  we  cannot  be- 
lieve unto  salvation;  but  the- giving  up  does  not  touch  the 
ground  of  pardon.  Christ  is  the  whole  and  only  ground. 
Faith  leans  not  one  particle  upon  our  self-surrender,  but 
rests  entirely,  confidently,  peacefully  on  Christ. 

Practically  the  great  hinderance  to  discipleship  and  to 
salvation  lies  at  this  point  of  counting  and  accepting  the 
cost  It  costs  too  much  in  the  way  of  self-denial,  and  men 
are  unwilling  to  have  discipleship  on  such  terms.  They 
are  not  persuaded  in  their  own  minds  to  give  all  for  Christ. 
It  is  also  the  element  of  failure  in  thousands  of  professions 
that  the  conditions  of  a  true*  discipleship  have  been  over- 


The  Church  in  the  World.  171 

looked.  With  no  intelligent  understanding  of  the  duties 
and  obligations  assumed,  religion  has  been  a  mere  form,  or 
the  career  has  been  of  short  duration.  The  tower  that 
should  have  risen  heavenward,  strong  and  beautiful,  is 
unfinished;  the  war  that  should  have  been  crowned  with 
victory  ends  in  ignoble  defeat. 


GARMENTS  NOT  DEFILED. 

Walking  in  white  in  a  dirty  world  requires  no  little 
care.  There  is  uncleanness  in  every  pathway,  and  the 
liability  to  jostle  and  contact  is  imminent.  The  clean  and 
fine  linen  is  easily  soiled  by  the  vile  rubbish  through  which 
the  saints  have  to  pick  their  way  to  the  better  land.  A 
capital  part  of  every  man's  religion  is  this :  "  To  keep  him- 
self unspotted  from  the  world." 

Even  in  our  efforts  to  save  people  there  is  a  timely  ad- 
monition— "And  others,  save  with  fear,  pulling  them  out  of 
the  fire,  hating  even  the  garment  spotted  by  the  flesh."  It 
would  seem  that  in  pulling  the  fallen  out  of  the  ditch  there 
is  perilous  risk  of  getting  daubed  with  the  slime.  There  is 
the  possibility  that  in  the  effort  at  rescue  we  may  get  burned. 
Loving  and  pitying  the  sinner,  we  must  keep  up  a  most 
hearty  hatred  of  the  sin.  "All  things  to  all  men"  has  this 
to  qualify  it :  that  w^e  hate  the  spotted  garment,  and  keep 
clear  of  any  contagion  there  may  be  in  it.  Christians  must 
not  soil  themselves  in  their  ways  and  means  of  reaching  and 
saving  the  world.  The  garments  of  the  Church — the  con- 
sciences and  character  of  its  members — are  sometimes  con- 
taminated by  dubious  expedients.  It  is  the  filth  of  world- 
liness  that  is  to  be  avoided — its  spirit,  frivolity,  love  of  style 
and  gain,  its  low  motives,  inordinate  selfishness  and  love  of 
pleasure.  Catering  to  these  may  seemingly  help  the  finances, 
and  build  brick  walls  and  lofty  spires,  but  it  defeces  and 
impoverishes  the  spiritual  temple. 


172  The  Editor-Bishop. 

It  is  worldliness  in  its  decent  and  respectable  ways  that 
is  capable  of  defiling  unawares.  The  pollen  of  flowere 
leaves  a  stain  on  the  robe  that  brushes  through  the  garden- 
walks.  The  very  atmosphere  of  society  is  laden  with  the 
soot  of  unbelief  and  wickedness,  and  its  polluting  showers 
fall  as  silently  and  as  unnoticed  as  the  impalpable  dust. 

Sardis  was  a  bad  place,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  and 
only  a  few  had  escaped  damage.  It  is  noted  rather  as  a 
wonder  that  any  faithful  ones  should  be  found  there.  "  Thou 
hast  a  few  names  even  in  Sardis  which  have  not  defiled 
their  garments."  There  was  one  family  worth  saving  from 
the  flood,  and  one  man  with  a  portion  of  his  family  escaped 
from  Sodorti.  There  are  more  good  people  in  proportion  to 
the  bad  now,  but  the  world  is  very  much  the  same.  It  de- 
files the  garments  of  the  saints  unless  the  followers  of  Christ 
look  well  to  their  ways  and  take  heed  to  their  steps.  The 
Christian  garb,  smirched  and  mottled  with  avarice,  fraud, 
and  leesing,  is  an  uncomely  thing.  Nothing  is  so  repul- 
sively untidy  as  robes  pure  and  lustrous  draggled  in  the 
mire,  limp  and  begrimed  with  the  foulness  of  the  gutter. 
The  defiled  garment  of  Christian  character  and  profession 
is  a  thing  that  may  Avell  excite  the  aversion  as  well  as  the 
pity  and  loathing  of  God  and  angels.  Such  objects  are  in 
every  community.  The  plumage  of  more  than  angel-born, 
the  crests  of  sons  are  seen  drooping  and  besmeared  with 
sensuality  and  diabolism.  In  the  ways  of  business,  of 
pleasure,  of  society,  these  spotted  garments  are  trailed. 
The  livery  of  what  should  be  a  holy  and  heavenly  citizen- 
ship is  flecked  with  the  touches  and  pressures  of  evil  asso- 
ciations and  practices,  and  reeks  with  the  odore  and  fumes 
of  intemperance  and  lust. 

And  yet  the  blessed  marvel  is  with  us,  in  our  world  and 
in  our  day.  It  is  something  more  than  a  perpetual  mira- 
cle, and  more  extraordinary  than  if  we  were  to  see  troops 


TuE  Church  in  the  World.  173 


of  angels  in  our  fields,  highways,  and  business  marts — this 
fact  that  there  are  people  who  have  not  defiled  their  gar- 
ments. This  is  the  standing  demonstration  of  our  religion : 
the  pure  hearts  and  immaculate  lives  of  at  least  a  few  who 
move  about  in  the  world  and  are  not  debauched  and  over- 
whelmed by  its  influence.  If  there  is  not  much  goodness, 
there  is  some.  If  not  many,  there  are  at  least  a  few  who 
have  withstood  the  strong  currents  ot  worldliness  and  vice, 
and  have  kept  themselves  clean.  The  power  of  the  gospel 
to  save  has  its  witnesses  in  every  age,  in  every  country,  and 
in  every  community.  There  are  names  here  and  there 
bright  and  untarnished,  shining  like  stars  in  the  firmament, 
and  attesting  the  greatness  of  redeeming  grace  and  wisdom. 
Such  exemplary  piety  may  be  comparatively  rare,  and  yet 
there  is  altogether  much  of  it.  If  in  the  worst  of  places 
there  were  a  few  names,  we  may  believe  that  the  aggregate 
of  true  devotion  and  fiiith  is  something  to  rejoice  over. 
Proportionately  there  are  doubtless  far  more  holy  souls  and 
unblemished  lives  in  the  world  than  ever  before,  and  we 
believe  that  the  average  type  of  our  religion  is  higher  and 
more  complete  than  it  was  in  those  times  when  the  few 
names  were  left  in  Sardis. 

One  of  the  worst  forms  of  skepticism  is  that  which  doubts 
of  all  goodness,  and  cynically  scouts  at  the  reality  of  Chris- 
tian purity.  We  are  better  for  believing  that  there  are 
clean  hands  and  pure  hearts,  made  so  by  the  blood  of  Jesus 
and  by  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  fact  not  only 
honors  God  and  proves  the  gospel  divine,  but  it  lifts  up  to 
us  all  the  possibility  and  the  privilege  of  a  like  experience. 
Plow  beautiful  those  lives  must  have  been  in  their  singular 
])erfection,  surrounded,  as  they  were,  by  apostate  professors 
and  by  the  voluptuous  vices  of  such  a  city  as  Sardis! 
How  surpassingly  beautiful  are  the  holy  lives  we  know  of, 
made  even  more  radiant  by  contrast  with  the  wickedness 


174  The  Editor-Bishop. 

of  the  age  and  by  the  general  ungodliness  of  the  world  1 
It  is  the  most  delightful  thought  we  can  have  in  relation  to 
the  world — that  there  are  good  people  in  it,  that  there  are 
souls  sweet  and  pure  in  our  midst,  faithful  ones  whose  gar- 
ments show  no  stain. 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  Master's  prayer  looked  to  this 
as  the  most  vital  of  all  interests.  "  I  pray  not  that  thou 
shouldest  take  them  out  of  the  world,  but  that  thou  should- 
est  keep  them  from  the  evil."  The  Saviour's  concern  was 
for  the  purity  of  his  followers,  the  holiness  of  his  Church 
— "  not  having  spot  or  wrinkle  or  any  such  thing."  The 
danger  was  from  the  evil  of  the  world,  that  the  garments 
might  be  defiled  and  the  moral  power  lost.  The  disciples 
were  needed  in  the  world  as  its  light,  its  salt,  its  salvation ; 
but  to  be  these  they  must  be  kept  from  the  evil.  They 
must  keep  themselves  unspotted  from  the  world,  free  from 
its  covetousness,  inordinate  affection,  and  unbridled  lust. 

It  would  seem  to  stand  for  the  highest  eulogy  upon  the 
Christian  that  he  has  not  defiled  his  garments.  It  means 
the  consistent  life,  blameless  conversation,  the  upright  heart. 
And  it  nmst  embrace  much  that  is  positive  and  active  in 
the  courageous  confession  and  devoted  service  of  Christ.  It 
is  not  the  life  of  the  cloister,  of  the  habitual  recluse,  but 
the  stirring  work  of  religious  sacrifice,  effort,  and  contact 
W'ith  the  world  in  the  great  battle  of  Christian  duty. 


THE  WORLD  IN  THE  CHURCH 


FORBIDDEN  DIVERSIONS. 

A  PASTOR  informs  us  that  in  the  bounds  of  his  circuit 
the  people  are  almost  universally  given  to  social  danc- 
ing-parties, and  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  obtain  a  sound 
committee  for  the  purpose  of  trying  the  offenders.  We  have 
reason  to  believe  that  this  is  not  a  solitary  case.  Such  ex- 
treme instances  may  be  exceptional,  but  everywhere  there 
are  these  manifestations  of  the  worldly  spirit.  In  some 
places  the  w'orldly  element  has  become  so  strong  in  the 
Church  that  the  enforcement  of  discipline  is  exceedingly 
difficult,  if  not  impracticable.  This  is  an  alarming  state  of 
things,  and  calls  for  serious  consideration.  How  does  it 
happen  that  the  Church  is  largely  composed,  in  places,  of 
those  who  have  no  scruples  on  the  subject  of  worldly  amuse- 
ment? 

We  fear  that  the  General  Rules  are  not  read  and  ex- 
plained from  the  pulpit  as  the  Discipline  requires.  Once 
or  twice  a  year  the  pastor  should  take  a  morning  hour,  in 
the  presence  of  the  largest  congregations,  for  the  purpose  of 
enlarging  upon  the  General  Rules  and  of  explaining  the 
duties  and  obligations  of  membership  in  the  Cliurch.  The 
pastoral  address  of  the  Bishops  was  ordered  by  the  General 
Conference  to  be  read  to  our  congregations.  Has  this  been 
done?  In  that  address  we  have  this:  "An  explicit  utter- 
ance was  given,  by  order  of  the  last  General  Conference, 
in  our  pastoral  address  on  the  subject  of  worldly  amuse- 
ments. Wc  now  repeat  that  utterance.  We  abate  none  of 
its  teachings  with  respect  either  to  the  manifest  inconsist- 

(175) 


170  The  Editor-Bishop. 


ency  of  such  indulgences  with  the  spirit  and  profession  of 
the  gospel  or  the  peril  which  they  bring  to  the  souls  of 
men.  Their  multiplied  and  insidious  forms  are  a  source  of 
perpetual  temptation  and  damage,  and  are  denounced  by 
the  word  of  God  and  by  that  part  of  our  General  Rules 
which  forbids  'the  taking  of  such  diversions  as  cannot  be 
used  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus.'  This  denunciation  is 
explicit  and  comprehensive.  '  The  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus ' 
in  this  connection  is  a  decisive  test,  and  we  are  content  to 
leave  the  issue  to  its  sovereign  arbitrament.  Among  those 
indulgences  which  cannot  stand  this  solenui  test  is  the  mod- 
ern dance,  both  in  its  private  and  public  exhibition,  as  ut- 
terly opposed  to  the  genius  of  Christianity  as  taught  by  us. 
When  persisted  in,  it  is  a  justifiable  ground  of  judicial  ac- 
tion by  the  Church  authorities." 

It  will  be  seen  from  this  extract  that  dancing  is  declared 
by  the  authoritative  expounders  of  our  Church  law  to  be  a 
justifiable  ground  of  judicial  action,  and,  by  consequence, 
of  expulsion  from  the  Church;  and  yet  there  are  thousands 
of  members  in  the  Church — not  all  of  them  young  people 
— who  i)retend  to  believe  that  there  is  nothing  in  our  rules 
which  prohibits  dancing  and  theater-going.  Their  ignorance 
may  be  owing  to  the  fact  that  they  do  not  read,  and  that 
their  pastors  have  not  taught  them  better. 

There  may  be  nmch  backsliding  after  people  get  into  the 
Church,  but  one  reason  for  so  much  worldliness  in  the 
Church  is  owing  to  the  way  in  which  members  are  received. 
The  door  is  not  sufficiently  guarded,  and  people  are  admitted 
before  they  have  been  instructed  in  reference  to  their  duties 
and  obligations.  The  Discipline  says :  "  When  persons  offer 
themselves  for  Church-membership  let  the  preacher  in  charge 
inquire  into  their  spiritual  condition,  and  receive  them  into 
the  Church  when  they  have  given  satisfactory  assurance  of 
their  desire  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  and  to  be  saved 


The  World  in  the  Church.  177 

from  their  sins ;  and  also  of  the  genuineness  of  their  faith 
and  of  their  willingness  to  keep  the  rules  of  the  Church. 
When  satisfied  on  these  points,  let  the  minister  bring  the 
candidates  before  the  congregation  whenever  practicable, 
and  receive  them  according  to  the  prescribed  form." 

Are  these  points  carefully  inquired  into  by  our  preachers 
before  the  members  are  received?  or  do  they  not  often  re- 
ceive them  without  having  had  any  private  conference  with 
the  applicants,  and  when  it  is  almost  certain  that  they  have 
never  read  the  Discipline,  and  that  they  know  nothing  about 
the  General  Rules?  If  there  is  any  one  point  in  a  pastor's 
administration  that  should  be  more  searchingly  reviewed 
than  another,  it  is  whether  he  has  fully  complied  with  the 
law  in  the  reception  of  members.  The  count  of  additions 
to  the  Church  should  go  for  little  until  we  know  how  they 
have  been  received.  It  is  far  from  clear  that  application 
for  membership  should  be  made  publicly.  Their  reception 
is  to  be  before  the  Church  and  by  prescribed  form;  but  as 
the  applicant,  if  examined,  may  fail  to  give  satisfaction,  it 
would  perhaps  be  better  for  the  application  to  be  made  })ri- 
vately  to  the  pastor.  If  after  a  thorough  understanding  ot 
the  rules  and  discipline  of  the  Church — including  the  pro- 
hibition of  dancing,  drinking,  theater-going,  and  the  like — 
they  are  willing  to  assume  the  vows,  their  spiritual  condi- 
tion being  satisfactory,  they  could  then  be  received  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  spirit  and  letter  of  the  law. 

Such  carefulness  in  the  reception  of  membere  would  prob- 
ably reduce  the  reported  accessions,  but  we  believe  it  would 
conduce  to  the  soundness  and  spirituality  of  the  Church. 
Under  the  old  method  of  six  months'  probation,  the  worldly 
element  was  largely  dropped  without  much  trouble,  but 
where  no  prescribed  jirobation  obtains  we  must  insist  that 
application  for  membership  and  reception  into  the  Church 
be  kept  apart  as  separate  and  widely  different  transactions. 
12 


178  The  Editor-Bishop. 

If  people  are  invited  to  make  application  publicly,  let  it 
be  well  understood  that  it  is  an  application,  and  is  in  no 
sense  a  reception  into  the  Church.  A  prime  cause  of  world- 
liness  in  the  Church  is  in  the  careless  way  in  which  mem- 
bers are  received.  They  are  sometimes  received  while  ig- 
norant of  our  rules,  uncoirverted,  and  not  even  thoroughly 
awakened.  The  world  comes  in  at  the  door  of  admission, 
and  until  this  is  guarded  against  we  shall  continue  to  be 
troubled  with  dancing  and  theater-going  people  in  the 
Church.  "We  do  not  believe  that  guarding  the  door  will 
effect  a  complete  cure,  but  it  will  save  the  Church  from  be- 
ing taken  and  governed  by  the  world.  AVe  shall  be  able, 
at  least,  to  maintain  sufficient  spirituality  to  administer  dis- 
cipline. 

The  business  of  the  Church  is,  of  course,  to  save  as  many 
souls  as  possible,  but  to  this  end  she  must  keep  hei-self  pure 
and  separate  from  the  world,  and  maintain  sound  doctrine 
and  strict  moral  discipline.  The  disposition  in  churches  to 
bid  for  members  as  secular  enterprises  bid  for  patronage  se- 
cures only  an  apparent  and  transient  success.  In  the  long 
run  the  "  roomiest  churches"  will  be  empty  or  cease  to  be 
churches  at  all.  Compromises  with  the  worldly  spirit  may 
gain  some  members  and  keep  them,  but  they  are  not  saved 
thereby,  and  the  spiritual  power  of  the  Church  is  weakened 
if  not  destroyed.  Strictness  in  receiving  members  and  in 
discipline  after  they  are  received  will  keep  out  some  who 
will  seek  other  and  less  scrupulous  communions,  but  our 
gain  in  other  directions  will  more  than  compensate.  If  the 
year's  work  foots  up  fewer  members  on  the  roll,  the  net  re- 
sult may  be  better.  The  count  of  the  saved  will  be  more, 
and  the  work  will  be  more  likely  to  stand  the  test  of  the 
fire  in  the  revelations  of  that  day. 


The  World  in  the  Church.  179 

LOOSE  NOTIONS. 

We  refer  to  the  views  which  seem  to  obtain,  to  a  consid- 
erable extent,  among  members  of  the  Church  in  regard  to 
sundry  matters. 

The  observance  of  the  Sabbath  is  one  of  them.  It  is  not 
uncommon  to  take  advantage  of  the  cheap  Sunday  excur- 
sion-trains. A  contemplated  trip  to  the  country,  or  return, 
may  be  made  at  one-fourth  of  the  ordinary  fare.  If  the 
cheap  trains  were  run  on  week-days  they  would  take  them, 
but  as  they  do  not,  our  Christian  friends  pack  up  and  go  on 
Sunday.  There  is  saving  of  some  money.  A  country  trip 
that  otherwise  might  not  be  afforded  is  gained,  but  the  law 
of  God  is  violated.  Can  Christians  afford  to  be  economical 
in  this  way?  Again,  it  happens  that  provisions  for  the  Sab- 
bath have  not  been  made  on  Saturday.  It  may  be  the  cus- 
tom, or  the  housewife  has  "  forgotten  to  take  bread,"  and  so 
the  first  thing  on  Sunday  morning  is  a  trip  to  the  market. 
With  some  the  day  is  largely  devoted  to  visiting  and  din- 
ing, much  more  than  to  home  reading  and  public  worehip. 
Some  men  of  business,  and  others  not  particularly  busy, 
cannot  forego  a  visit  to  the  post-office,  and  there  are  odds 
and  ends  of  the  week  that  demand  a  few  moments  at  the 
store  or  a  ride  in  the  field 

The  relations  of  Christians  to  the  whisky  business  ought 
to  be  above  suspicion.  As  to  its  use,  the  Discipline  takes 
the  ground  of  total  abstinence.  Besides  originating  tract 
societies  and  Sunday-schools,  Mr.  Wesley  put  total  absti- 
nence into  the  organization  of  his  societies.  If  a  man  who 
drinks  liquor  except  in  cases  of  necessity  may  be  a  good 
Christian,  it  is  certain  that  he  cannot  be  a  good  Methodist. 
In  taking  the  vows  of  membership  in  the  Church  ho  has 
pledged  himself  to  total  abstinence.  We  doubt  whether  the 
habitual  drinker  of  liquor  can  be  a  good  Christian,  but  we 
arc  sure  that  the  man  cannot  be  who  has  solemnly  vowed  to 


180  The  Editou-Bisiiop. 

abstain  and  yet  continues  to  drink.  The  wrong  of  drinking 
carries  with  it  the  wrong  of  selling  or  buying  liquor  as  a 
beverage.  No  reputable  Christian  will  retail  the  poison; 
but  do  not  some  regarded  as  in  good  standing  deal  in  the 
article  in  a  wholesale  way,  or  in  connection  with  the  more 
general  business  of  groceries  and  supplies?  Tiie  liquor 
business,  if  it  must  be  tolerated  by  society,  ought  to  be  a 
specialty,  and  left  altogether  to  worldlings  and  sinners.  No 
Christian  can  touch  it,  even  by  wholesale,  without  defile- 
ment. It  hurts  his  influence  and  damages  his  soul.  The 
liquor  trade  yields  large  profits,  no  doubt,  but  these  profits 
would  be  much  less  if  all  who  profess  to  be  Christians  were 
to  cease  to  use  or  buy  or  sell  the  miserable  stuff.  At  any 
rate,  the  gain  of  sin  is  not  for  them. 

Gambling — as,  indulgence  in  games  of  chance — has  a  com- 
mon principle  in  all  its  ramifications.  The  lottery,  the  card- 
table,  the  horse-race,  the  dice-box,  and  many  other  forms, 
come  to  the  same  thing.  Betting  on  elections  is  in  the 
same  line,  and  attended  with  the  most  corrupting  results  in 
the  politics  of  the  country.  The  chance  of  getting  much 
for  little — or,  practically,  of  something  for  nothing — is  a 
severe  test  of  principle.  Gambling  is  bad  as  an  amusement, 
because  it  becomes  a  passion.  It  is  bad  for  the  people,  be- 
cause it  is  unfriendly  to  industry,  honesty,  and  labor,  and 
because  it  impoverishes  thousands  where  it  makes  one  rich. 
Business  gambling  is  as  pernicious  as  any.  It  destroys  con- 
fidence, unsettles  values,  and  leads  to  the  shipwreck  of  the 
most  of  those  who  indulge  in  it.  The  best  business  minds 
regard  the  inroad  of  the  gambling  spirit  and  methods  into 
commercial  affairs  as  a  great  evil.  The  dealing  in  futures 
certainly  has  about  it  something  of  the  elements  of  a  game 
of  chance,  and  its  influence  in  the  business  world  is  un- 
wholesome in  the  extreme.  By  lottery-tickets,  by  futures, 
by  other  chance  ventures,  now  and  then  somebody  makes  a 


The  World  in  the  Church.  181 

fortune,  and  the  fact  is  published,  and  multitudes  are  drawn 
into  the  vortex  of  ruin.  Can  a  Christian  consistently  gam- 
ble, or  touch  that  which  has  in  it  the  gambling  element? 

There  is  a  broad  line  between  the  kingdom  of  Christ  and 
the  world.  Very  loose  notions  prevail  in  regard  to  this  dis- 
tinction. What,  in  general,  is  the  difference  between  a  re- 
spectable worldling  and  a  rather  below  average  Church- 
member?  Both  may  be  found  making  the  Sabbath  a  con- 
venience for  business  or  pleasure;  both  may  be  side  by  side 
selling  whisky ;  both  risking  money  on  the  same  wild  spec- 
ulations or  in  schemes  of  chance;  lx)th  filled  with  the  love 
of  the  world ;  and  both  found  together  in  the  ball-room  and 
the  theater.  With  some  sorts  of  religious  people  there 
seems  to  be  no  rocognition  of  the  principle  and  fact  of  a 
real  separation  from  the  world,  and  that  in  these  days  se'jf- 
denial  sacrifice,  and  even  suffering,  may  be  required  in  or- 
der to  Cliristian  fidelity.  They  accept  things  as  they  are, 
and  do  as  the  world  does,  oblivious  of  the  broad  distinction 
between  Christian  holiness  and  worldly-mindedness. 

These  loose  notions  concern  the  vital  principles  of  practi- 
cal righteousness,  and  their  prevalence  indicates  a  need  of 
reform.  The  idea  that  people  can  gamble,  dance,  drink, 
sell  whisky,  and  junket  on  Sunday  with  the  world  and  as 
the  world  does,  and  yet  save  their  souls,  is  a  delusion  that, 
with  all  its  extravagance,  needs  to  be  exposed.  Conformity^ 
to  the  world  has  always  been  a  stumbling-block  to  the 
Church ;  and  the  most  diflScult  thing  in  religious  practice, 
as  well  as  one  of  the  clearest  tests  of  religion  pure  and  un- 
defiled,  is  for  the  professed  believer  to  keep  himself  unspot- 
ted from  the  world  

RECREATION  IN  RELIGION. 

The  Church  is  no  more  bound  to  furnish  diversions  for 
its  people  than  it  is  to  furnish  them  with  employment.     Re- 


182  The  Editor-Bishop. 


ligious  principles  apply  to  both,  and  the  practical  precepts 
of  the  Bible  and  rules  of  Church  order  and  discipline  indi- 
cate the  line  of  Christian  duty  concerning  them.  If  it  be 
true  that  Christians  must  have  amusements,  and  that  the 
young  people  es}3ecially  must  have  them,  it  does  not  follow 
that  the  Church  is  to  furnish  them.  Religion  is  the  busi- 
ness of  the  Church.  Its  mission  is  to  preach  the  gospel, 
administer  the  ordinances,  supply  the  means  of  grace,  do 
what  it  can  for  benevolent  and  religious  objects,  and  en- 
deavor to  bring  the  people  to  Ciirist. 

Social  reunions,  Jiowever,  under  the  guidance  of  pastors 
and  Church-members,  and  conducted  in  accordance  with  the 
spirit  of  the  gospel,  may  be  productive  of  much  good.  Con- 
versation, music,  and  literary  entertainment  might  fill  up 
the  evening,  and  there  would  be  a  decided  benefit  socially 
to  all  concerned.  In  this  direction  our  churches  could  do 
much  more  than  they  are  doing  to  supply  harmless  and 
even  beneficial  diversions  to  the  young  j^eople. 

There  is,  apart  from  any  expedients  of  this  kind,  an  ele- 
ment of  recreation  in  religion  itself.  As  a  relief  from  the 
weariness  and  cares  of  business  and  domestic  aflTairs,  there 
is  nothing  comparable  to  the  duties  of  religion.  The  fa- 
tigued business  man,  the  worried  housewife,  find  refresh- 
ment in  the  weekly  prayer-meeting.  Nothing  is  more  rest- 
'*ful  to  the  tired  body  and  the  exhausted  nerves  than  an  hour 
spent  in  social  worship. 

The  craving  for  social  intercourse  is  abundantly  met  and 
satisfied  in  the  company  of  wcrrshiijers.  The  communion 
of  saints  is  society  in  its  religious  aspects,  and  it  is  designed 
to  be  to  the  Christian  what  worldly  society  is  to  the  worldly. 
Because  of  the  higher  purposes  and  benefits  of  religious 
association  and  worship,  we  are  a})t  to  underrate  their  value 
as  a  means  of  recreation.  Thousands  of  people  have  scarce- 
Iv  any  other  society  than  that  connected  with  their  duties 


The  Church  in  the  World.  183 


and  relations  to  the  Church,  and  the  public  and  social  ser\s 
ices  of  the  liouse  of  God  are  the  only  relief  they  have  from 
the  monotonous  routine  of  secular  affairs  and  daily  toil. 
They  find  their  recreation  in  their  religion.  Its  duties  are 
pleasant,  and  their  spare  time  is  occupied  with  them.  The 
bow  of  care  and  labor  is  unbent,  the  strain  upon  mind  and 
body  is  relaxed,  and  the  isolation  of  home-life  is  expanded 
into  a  circle  of  the  most  congenial  and  helpful  character. 

Sunday  with  many  religious  people  is  a  busy  day.  What 
with  the  Sunday-school,  and  the  public  services,  and  other 
meetings,  the  time  is  all  occupied.  And  yet  it  is  a  change 
from  the  work  of  the  week,  and  the  effect  is  even  more  in- 
vigorating and  refreshing  than  if  the  day  had  been  spent 
in  idleness  and  lounging  at  home.  The  Sabbath  is  indeed 
a  day  of  true  recreation  to  those  who  spend  it  in  religious 
occupations.  To  those  that  labor,  and  to  those  that  spend 
the  day  in  pleasure-seeking,  it  is  destructive  of  vitality. 

The  spiritually-minded  Christian  will  find  that  his  leisure 
is  fully  taken  up  with  his  religious  duties,  and  the  recrea- 
tion there  is  in  them  will  satisfy  him.  And  this  is  about 
equal  to  saying  that  people  who  are  zealously  religious  will 
have  no  desire  to  seek  for  mere  diversions  outside  the  path 
of  religious  duty.  If  the  taste  be  formed  for  religious  asso- 
ciations, and  there  be  delight  in  religious  services  and  exer- 
cises, and  the  mind  and  heart  be  filled  and  occupied  with  ^ 
the  truth  and  joy  of  divine  wisdom,  there  will  be  no  desire 
and  no  clamor  for  worldly  amusements. 

The  recreation  of  spiritual  men  and  women  is  in  their  re- 
ligion, and  not  outside  of  it.  Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleas- 
antness. There  is  cheerfulness,  joy  unspeakable,  and  the 
most  delightful  and  satisfying  entertainment  in  them.  The 
services  of  religion  are  not  a  gloomy  dirge  nor  a  perpetual 
penance.  They  are  not  a  yoke  of  bondage,  a  cruel  task, 
nor  u  repulsive  burden.     Neither  is  religion  in  opposition 


184  The  Editor-Bishop. 

to  the  healthy  yearnings  of  our  nature  for  that  which  shall 
entertain  and  invigorate.  It  is  in  itself  the  sum  of  all  that 
is  wholesome  to  the  mind  and  body.  It  is  the  tree  of  life 
planted  in  the  world  to  restore  the  wasting  energies  and  to 
supply  all  the  needs  of  the  soul.  It  is  every  way  and  pow- 
erfully recreative.     There  is  recreation  in  religion. 


PERIL  TO  METHODIST  EXPERIENCE. 

The  Christian  experience  of  the  day  is  becoming  con- 
fused and  lamentably  one-sided.  The  testimonies  that  we 
hear  even  in  our  Methodist  love-feast  in  many  cases  lacks 
in  the  element  of  inward  spiritual  cleansing.  One,  and  a 
very  considerable  current,  seems  to  flow  in  the  direction  of 
a  justification  that  is  not  attended  by  a  conscious  regenera- 
tion. Christ  has  paid  the  debt,  and  was  delivered  for  our 
offenses.  Resting  in  this,  heaven  is  well  assured.  There 
may  be  no  sense  of  victory  over  the  easily-besetting  sin,  no 
realization  of  a  pure  heart,  and  yet  there  is  confidence  of 
being  accepted,  and  of  final  salvation  through  the  merits 
of  Christ. 

None  hold  to  the  atonement  as  the  ground  of  pardon 
and  final  salvation  more  stringently  than  do  our  doctrinal 
standards;  but  we  do  not  divorce  this  doctrine  from  that 
of  sanctification.  While  Christ  has  paid  it  all,  still  with- 
out holiness  no  man  shall  see  tlie  Lord.  There  is  a  meet- 
ness  of  character,  a  personal  righteousness,  a  purity  of  heart, 
that  coincides  with  pardon,  and  goes  along  with  it.  It  is 
this  aspect  of  experience  that  has  fallen  out  of  our  testi- 
mony to  an  alarming  extent.  The  mere  seeker  and  the 
backslider  are  now  advanced  to  the  front,  often  witnessing 
to  an  assurance  of  justification,  based  upon  a  mental  opera- 
tion rather  than  upon  the  felt  power  of  a  new  life.  Salva- 
tion is  a  matter  of  premises  and  conclusion,  and  not  an  actu- 


The  Church  in  the  World.  185 

al  sense  of  deliverance  from  the  pollution  and  power  of  sin. 
Justification  by  faith  is  a  wholesome  doctrine,  but  it  is  a 
delusion  to  suppose  that  we  are  justified  when  sin  still 
reigns  in  us  and  tlo  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  unknown. 
The  kingdom  "  is  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost."  The  true  believer  receives  the  Spirit  of  adoption, 
crying,  "Abba,  Father!" 

It  has  come  to  be  a  fashion  to  disclaim  the  very  attain- 
ments in  holiness  which  the  Scriptures  enjoin,  and  to  seek 
to  encourage  the  weak  and  troubled  by  relaxing  the  gospel 
demand  of  a  perfect  love.  In  some  cases  this  may  be  the 
rebound  from  defective  views  of  Christian  perfection.  It 
matters  not  how  erroneously  the  doctrine  has  been  advo- 
cated, we  must  insist  upon  a  regenerated  and  sanctified  nat- 
ure, the  attainment  of  personal  holiness,  and  the  witness  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  The  baneful  breath  of  Antinomianism 
and  of  imputed  righteousness  is  already  to  be  detected  in 
our  love-feasts  and  in  the  common  religious  talk  of  many 
of  our  people.  The  heterogeneous  muddle  of  doctrines  in 
the  so-called  unsectarian  evangelists  of  the  past  few  years 
has  helped  to  corrupt  and  mislead.  The  miscellaneous  and 
popular  religious  songs  put  forth  by  irresponsible  individu- 
als, and  eagerly  caught  up  and  used  without  discrimination 
in  our  social  meetings,  have  contributed  largely  to  the  re- 
sult. Our  pulpits  have  in  some  degree  given  way  to  a  shal^ 
low  sensationalism,  and  our  doctrines  are  not  preached  as 
fully  and  habitually  as  in  other  yeai*s.  Do  one-half  of  our 
j^ople  know  the  distinctive  meaning  of  justification  and 
sanctification?  Are  they  made  to  realize  that  they  may 
and  must  be  saved  from  sin,  and  that  the  adoption  of  sons, 
with  the  corresponding  Spirit  of  adoption,  is  a  present  in- 
heritance and  a  blessing  for  the  present  hour? 

Errors  in  doctrine  are  connected  with  false  conceptions 
of  experience.     The  true  pulse  of  the  Church  may  be  bet- 


186  The  EuiTOK-Biiiuor. 

ter  felt  in  the  exjierience-nieetiug  thau  anywhere  else.  And 
it  is  here  that  we  think  may  be  detected  the  beginnings  of 
a  serious  disorder.  There  are  false  notes  and  discordant 
strains  in  the  tone  of  our  experiences.  It  is  perha{>s  to  be 
expected  that*  the  time  of  conversion  and  the  attendant  dem- 
onstration should  be  less  marked  now  than  fifty  years  ago. 
But  conversion,  as  embracing  faith  in  Christ  and  a  new 
creature,  must  be  the  same.  Inward  holiness  fnust  not  be 
dissevered  from  the  clearest  and  strongest  conceptions  of 
Christ's  merit  as  the  ground  of  salvation.  Our  testimony 
needs  to  be  strengthened  in  regard  to  the  work  and  witness 
of  the  Spirit  in  the  heart,  and  in  regard  to  the  cleansing 
ix)wer  of  the  blood  of  Christ.  We  are  glad  to  hear  ]x.>ople 
declare  that  their  purposes  are  right,  and  that  they  are 
trusting  in  the  atoning  blood ;  but  we  should  be  gratified  to 
hear  more  about  victory  over  sin  and  the  blessedness  of  clean 
hearts. 

The  love-feast  and  the  class-meeting  are  full  of  revela- 
tions and  suggestions  to  the  diligent  and  watchful  i>astor. 
He  need  not  draw  his  bow  at  a  venture  if  he  be  attentive 
to  their  voice.^ 


FAMILY  RELIGION. 


CHILDREN  AT  HOME. 

IT  is  scarcely  a  home  at  all  without  children.  A  house  in 
which  there  is  none  is  desolate,  whatever  may  be  its  spa- 
cious hg.lls  and  rich  upholstery.  Grown  j^eople  may  move 
there  in  mirth  and  revelry,  or  live  in  quiet  and  orderly 
state ;  'every  thing  may  be  kept  prim  and  neat,  with  no 
traces  of  the  disorder  and  abandon  of  young  life;  but  there 
is  a  painful  void.  People  who  do  not  want  children,  and 
shun  the  care  and  worry  of  them,  should  by  all  means  be- 
take themselves  to  cloisters,  or  live,  as  troglodytes,  away 
from  the  society  of  civilized  men. 

Not  to  sustain  the  parental  relation  is  to  be  deprived  of 
one  of  the  most  important  conditions  of  our  education.  For 
moral  and  spiritual  ends  it  is  of  invaluable  service  to  have 
the  parental  affections  awakened  and  developed,  to  be  tried 
in  our  patience,  and  to  feel  the  responsibility  which  the 
nurture  and  training  of  children  demand.  Where  houses 
and  people  are  childless  through  misfortune.  Providence 
may  have  some  compensating  provisions;  but  the  loss  is 
one  so  serious  that  we  can  scarcely  see  how  there  can  be 
any  full  reparation. 

Parents  can  understand  better  than  others  those  declara- 
tions and  promises  of  Scripture  that  refer  to  this  relation : 
"If  ye,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your 
children,  how  iimch  more  will  your  heavenly  Father  give 
the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him?"  Parents  come 
nearer  fathoming  the  fatherhood  of  God  than  even  the  an- 
gels do.     They  have  a  peculiar  appreciation  of  the  gift;  of 

(187) 


188  The  Editor-Bishop. 

the  only-begotten  Son.  Do  they  not  get  deeper  into  this 
profound  and  affecting  passage  than  the  seraphim :  "  He 
that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us 
all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  freely  give  us  all  things?" 
There  is  a  richness  of  tenderness  and  pathos  in  the  parable 
of  the  prodigal  son  which  none  but  fathers  and  mothers 
wholly  comprehend.  They  have  in  them  the  image  of  the 
divine  paternity,  and  are  brought  into  completest  sympathy 
with  the  highest  manifestations  of  divine  love  and  compas- 
sion. There  are  chords  in  the  human  heart  which  it  would 
seem  that  God  himself  cannot  maketo  vibrate  except  through 
the  parental  relation.  It  opens  the  understanding  to  some 
of  the  grandest  disclosures  of  revelation,  and  presents  a  dis- 
tinct field  for  the  display  of  submission,  under  sanctified  sor- 
row. Children  in  the  house,  whether  they  are  there  to  live 
or  die,  are  a  blessing.  Their  being  and  training  call  forth  a 
class  of  affections  and  antagonize  a  selfishness  which  nothing 
else  can  reach.  Their  life  is  a  discipline  which  has  no  sub- 
stitute, and  their  death  is  a  sorrow  that  has  no  kinship  in 
the  category  of  afflictions. 

The  home  is  the  school  of  the  children  in  it.  Their 
characters  are  formed  there,  there  they  take  their  departure 
for  a  career  of  virtue  and  usefulness  or  for  a  course  of  vice, 
and  to  be  the  pests  of  society.  Outside  influences  for  evil 
are  to  be  counteracted  by  the  training  in  the  family.  Here 
— and  effectually  nowhere  else — can  they  be  fortified  against 
the  temptations  which  await  them  in  the  world.  Neither 
secular  nor  Sunday  schools  can  be  intrusted  with  the  work 
which  must  be  done  by  the  parents  at  home.  Religion, 
morals,  industry,  neatness,  practicalness,  self-help,  good 
mauners,  must  all  be  taught  in  the  house  and  in  the  child- 
hood period.  Herein  parents  should  have  no  need  of  priests 
or  dancing-masters.  The  home  circle  and  the  fireside  should 
be  the  school-room  for  piety  and  politeness. 


Family  Religion.  189 

There  is  no  adequate  substitute  for  a  good  home,  and  to 
the  young  there  is  no  privation  more  calamitous.  In  some 
families  there  is  a  tyranny  that  rebounds  after  awhile,  and 
the  children  are  the  worse  for  it.  Cunning,  duplicity,  and 
falsehood  are  fostered,  and  filial  love  and  reverence  are  de- 
stroyed. In  other  households  there  is  anarchy.  The  chil- 
dren run  riot  with  excess  of  license,  and  are  an  annoyance  to 
parents  and  guests.  The  broken  chairs,  the  torn  curtains, 
dirt,  and  general  disorder,  show  the  lack  of  all  restraint. 
It  is  a  positive  trial  to  visit  houses  where  the  children  govern 
the  parents.  The  visitor  feels  embarrassment  for  the  good, 
easy-going,  slipshod,  over-indulgent  mother  in  her  futile 
endeavors  to  quiet  the  chronic  rumpus  and  to  secure  tem- 
porary peace.  Surely  there  is  a  more  excellent  way.  Gov- 
ernment there  must  be ;  obedience  must  be  exacted ;  and  in 
well-ordered  homes  the  children  are  olive-plants,  green  and 
beautiful  and  beautifying,  and  not  nettles  and  stinging  cac- 
tuses. 

We  think  ot  the  model  household  as  having  in  it  not  a 
lone  child  kept  as  in  a  bandbox,  but  a  group  of  merry, 
romping,  loving  boys  and  girls,  trom  the  elder  ones  bloom- 
ing into  their  teens,  to  the  little  bud  that  is  the  care  and  pet 
of  all.  They  are  not  to  be  too  neat  in  their  every-day 
clothes,  and  there  are  looseness  and  comfort  in  their  array 
rather  than  any  affectation  of  expense  and  style.  And  this 
bunch  of  little  folk  is  instinct  with  the  spirit  of  obedience 
and  deference  to  the  parental  will,  with  no  trace  of  painful 
fear,  but  with  every  element  of  sunshine  and  gladness  in  it. 
Obedience,  rightly  implanted,  brings  in  its  train  truth, 
honor,  candor,  and  conscience. 

About  the  rod  and  its  use  we  cannot  enter  at  large.  The 
things  we  have  indicated  must  be  secured  somehow,  and 
generally  they  can  be  without  much  use  of  the  classic  birch. 
"NVe  have  no  quarrel  with  Solomon,  but  he  turned  out  badly 


190  The  Editor-Bishop. 

himself,  and  his  children  were  not  models.  As  a  rule,  the 
whipping  should  be  done  before  the  child  is  ten  years  old, 
and  not  much  need  he  done  after  the  sixth  year.  More  chil- 
dren have  been  spoiled  and  ruined  by  harsh  and  injudicious 
use  of  the  rod  than  have  been  saved  by  its  wise  application. 
Since  we  have  been  living  in  a  large  city,  with  close  neigh- 
bors, we  have  rarely  been  free  from  the  annoying  screams 
and  cries  of  whipped  children.  It  is  a  nuisance,  an  evil,  a 
barbarous  cruelty  throughout  the  world  that  needs  to  be 
abated.  A  parent  irate,  frenzied  with  anger,  belaboring  a 
helpless  and  ill-instructed  child,  ought  to  be  indicted  for 
felony.  The  rod  may  be  good  in  some  cases,  but  few  par- 
ents have  the  wisdom,  grace,  and  patience  to  use  it  aright. 
Firmness,  love,  prayerfulness,  and  self-control  will  be  more 
effective  than  the  harshar  course  with  the  average  child. 


THE  BIBLE  AT  HOME. 

God's  Book  was  given  us  to  be  read.  Some  parts  are 
more  important  and  edifying  than  others,  but  every  part  is 
worth  attention,  and  none  should  be  neglected.  It  should 
be  gone  through  in  regular  course  from  Genesis  to  Reve- 
lation. Portions  adapted  to  our  immediate  condition  and 
wants  should  be  selected  as  occasion  arises;  but  the  habit  of 
reading  the  Bible  regularly  through  should  be  maintained. 

The  Bible  should  not  be  merely  read ;  it  should  be  stud- 
ied, meditated  on,  and  searched  in  a  prayerful  spirit.  In 
general,  we  imagine  Christians  take  too  little  pains  in  this 
matter,  and  that  they  devote  too  little  time  to  it.  Other 
books  have  usurped  the  place  of  the  Book,  and  ne\\"spapers, 
magazines,  and  novels  leave  but  a  fragment  of  time  for  the 
word  of  God.  It  is  a  busy  age,  and  many  are  occupied 
overmuch  with  the  affairs  of  life.  Remember,  however, 
that  the  busiest  must  die,  and  that  the  treatment  of  God's 


Family  Religion.  191 

Book  will  be  brought  up  in  judgment.  The  Bible  is  enti- 
tled to  our  greatest  care;  it  must  be  the  first  not  only  in 
our  reverence,  but  in  our  actual  use.    ■ 

What  we  write  now  is  for  Christians  in  their  private 
home-life.  How  are  you  treating  the  Bible?  how  do  you 
read  it?  how  much  do  you  know  of  it  and  about  it?  We 
like  to  see  Bibles  about  the  house  well  worn,  showing  use, 
and  with  the  signs  of  wear  on  the  binding  and  gilding,  and 
the  pages  opening  with  facility  almost  anywhere.  Ev- 
ery one  should  have  his  own  Bible,  and  be  familiar  with  the 
location  of  its  chapters  and  paragraphs.  A  neighbor's  house 
may  be  just  like  ours,  but  we  are  more  at  home  in  our  own. 
There  are  margins,  fly-leaves,  and  marks  that  we  appropri- 
ate, and  the  volume  comes  at  length  to  have  a  history  and 
many  blessed  associations.  It  is  an  old  traveling  compan- 
ion ;  it  has  witnessed  many  trying  ordeals  in  our  lives ;  there 
are  upon  its  pages  the  stain  of  storms  and  shipwrecks  and 
the  print  of  tears. 

But  the  main  thing  is  to  read  it  understandingly.  "Un- 
derstandest  thou  what  thou  readest? "  Do  not  pass  over  a 
verse  without  letting  this  question  have  its  full  force.  De- 
termine to  find  out  the  mind  of  the  Spirit  as  far  as  possible, 
and  bring  all  your  thoughts  to  bear  upon  the  words  under 
your  eye.  A  little  self-examination  will  probably  expose 
our  ignorance  and  carelessness,  and  show  how  unworthily 
we  have  handled  the  word  of  life. 

The  reading  will  be  a  means  of  deepening  piety,  and  the 
soul  will  be  fed  as  it  can  be  fed  nowhere  else.  Without  fa- 
miliarity with  the  Bible  the  Christian  cannot  pray  to  much 
purpose,  nor  can  he  get  the  largest  benefits  from  the  preach- 
ing and  ordinances  of  God's  house.  To  be  eminently  use- 
ful, to  have  a  uniform  and  stable  experience,  and  to  be 
truly  happy  in  our  religion,  we  must  see  to  it  that  the  word 
of  Christ  dwells  richly  in  us.    To  stand  and  to  be  panoplied 


192  The  Editor-Bishop. 

for  the  holy  war,  first  of  all  the  loins  must  be  girt  about 
witii  truth.  To  young  Christians  and  to  the  old,  to  all  who 
would  keep  themselves  in  the  love  of  God,  and  persevere 
till  the  crown  is  gained,  Bible-reading  is  of  the  first  im- 
portance. There  can  be  no  permanent,  vigorous,  growing 
spiritual  life  without  it. 

PRAYER  IN  THE  FAMILY. 

The  first  Church  was  a  family  Church,  the  first  priest- 
hood and  ministry  were  over  a  household,  and  the  first  so- 
cial prayer  was  doubtless  in  the  home  circle.  It  is  not  need- 
ful to  be  argued  out,  or  set  forth  in  the  form  of  scriptural 
proof,  that  there  should  be  prayer  in  the  house.  Our  Meth- 
odist rules  assume  that  it  is  one  of  several  other  duties  which 
the  "Spirit  writes  on  truly  awakened  hearts."  Such  per- 
sons may  neglect  it,  they  may  decline  the  performance  from 
lack  of  courage,  or  from  fancied  incapacity,  but  they  cannot 
be  clear  in  their  consciences. 

It  is  'good  for  the  whole  family — wife,  children,  guests, 
and  servants — to  worship  God  in  this  way.  Even  the  cats 
and* dogs  and  other  domestic  animals  come  to  recognize  the 
usage,  and  seem  the  better  for  it,  though  they  may  not  un- 
deretand  the  import  as  fully  as  their  masters.  Servants 
may  avoid  participation,  but  they  feel  the  influence,  and 
are  conscious  that  God  is  under  the  roof  as  well  as  above 
it.  Careless  and  ungodly  neighbors  come  to  know  it, 
and  in  spite  of  themselves  look  upon  that  house  as  dif- 
ferent from  theirs,  and  better.  It  is  a  testimony  to  the 
world  without,  witnessing  for  the  truth,  and  preaching  in 
an  humble  way.  Going  to  Church  is  in  the  line  of  resjiecta- 
bility,  and  deep  piety  need  not  be  supposed ;  but  prayer  and 
praise  daily  at  home  indicate  more  than  conformity  to  the 
habits  and  fashion  of  a  community.  Can  that  be  called  a 
religious  home  in  which  there  is  no  family  worship?    The 


Family  Religion.  193 


world  says  nay,  and  so  say  we.  There  may  be  pious  indi- 
viduals in  it,  but  there  is  no  Church  in  the  house.  It  does 
not  stand  in  the  aggregate  as  a  religious  household,  and  its 
testimony  in  this  capacity  is  wanting. 

The  family  is  a  good  place  in  which  to  learn  to  pray. 
One  can  afford  to  pray  indifferently  here  till  practice  gives 
greater  facility  and  self-possession.  It  is  a  good  school  of 
training  for  the  prayer-meeting  and  the  public  congrega- 
tion and  for  the  sick-room.  People  who  do  not  pray  in  the 
family  usually  pray  nowhere  except  in  secret.  Shrinking 
from  the  cross  at  home,  it  cannot  be  borne  elsewhere. 

After  all  endeavors  to  excuse  themselves,  we  imagine  that 
this  omission  rests  as  a  cloud  upon  the  consciences  of  many 
fathers  and  mothers.  They  cannot  be  quite  satisfied,  nor 
altogether  easy,  and  there  is  a  shade  of  God's  displeasure 
upon  them.  They  are  living  in  the  neglect  of  a  means  of 
grace  and  of  an  ordinance  which  is  necessary  for  the  wel- 
fare of  their  children.  Without  estimating  the  degree  of 
guilt,  or  condemning  too  severely,  we  are  persuaded  that 
heads  of  families  often  lose  ground  and  finally  fall  away 
altogether  for  the  want  of  this  most  helpful  assistant  to 
godly  living.  The  sons  and  daughters  of  a  prayerless  house 
cannot  be  expected  to  go  out  into  the  world  braced  for  the 
inevitable  conflict  with  sin  and  fortified  against  temptation. 
They  have  never  heard  the  father  pray,  they  have  never 
heard  him  read  the  Bible,  they  have  never  felt  the  gracious 
dews  which  distill  about  the  home  altar.  Their  filial  rev- 
erence and  affection  have  never  been  raised  and  purified  by 
the  noblest  exhibition  of  paternal  dignity  and  love.  The 
father  who  does  not  pray  with  his  family  never  rises  to 
the  highest  and  best  realization  of  his  position  as  the  head 
of  his  household. 

Prayer  operates  as  a  restraint  upon  doubtful  and  hurtful 
pastimes.  It  gives  a  sanctity  to  the  home  which  rebukes 
1.". 


194  The  Editor-Bishop. 


and  excludes  reveling  and  pernicious  jgaraes.  Dancing  and 
cards  are  not  likely  to  be  allowed  where  the  morning  and 
evening  sacrifices  are  regularly  offered.  The  houses  of  pro- 
fessors of  religion  may  sometimes  be  desecrated  by  these 
practices,  but  not  the  homes  that' are  hallowed  by  family 
worship.  They  cannot  well  exist  in  the  same  atmosphere 
and  be  indulged  in  the  same  hour  with  prayer.  Whatever 
is  hurtful  to  the  Christian  life  will  be  banished  by  the  erec- 
tion of  the  family  altar. 

Prayer  in  the  family  requires  a  deep  and  consistent  piety. 
Wife,  children,  and  servants  know  us  better  than  we  are 
known  in  the  Church  or  in  the  comnmnity.  Conscious  in- 
consistency in  temper,  language,  and  manners  is  an  embar- 
rassment which  reaches  its  closest  quarters  at  home.  It  is 
hard  to  pray  with  those  who  know  our  faults  too  well.  Care- 
ful living  and  nmch  grace  are  the  conditions  of  free  and 
comfortable  prajJTng  in  the  family. 

As  to  the  manner  there  should  be  time,  each  one  should, 
take  part  in  reading  the  Scriptures,  and  all  should  join  in 
the  Lord's  Prayer.  If  ^lot  always,  yet  occasionally  let  the 
Commandments  and  the  Apostles'  Creed,  as  given  in  con- 
nection with  the  vows  of  baptism  and  Church-membership, 
be  repeated  by  all.  Singing  should  not  be  omitted.  At 
least  sing  the  doxology  to  Old  Hunared  or  Ses^ons.  Let 
there  be  always  this  much  of  praise.  The  Scripture-lesson 
should  usually  be  short,  attended  sometimes  with  brief  ex- 
position and  questions,  and  let  the  prayer  be  short.  Do  not 
weary  and  disgust  the  children  by  prolixity  in  any  thing, 
and  let  the  whole  service  be  lively  and  cheerful.  It  is 
family  worship,  the  Church  in  the  house;  the  children  are 
all  members,  and  let  all  have  something  to  do.  There  are^io 
aliens,  no  outsiders,  no  strangers  here.  The  promise  is  to 
you  and  to  your  children :  "  Thou  shalt  be  saved,  and  thy 
house."     It  is  the  place  to  gather  the  family  under  the 


Family  Religion.  195 

wings  of  Jehovah,  and  to  adore  and  praise  him  who  hath 

"set  the  solitary  in  families." 


THE  SON  OF  THINE  HANDMAID. 

David,  in  times  of  great  distress,  recalls  the  character 
of  his  mother,  and  pleads  with  God  the  fact  that  she  was 
a  handmaid,  or  servant  of  the  Lord.  "  Give  thy  strength 
unto  thy  servant,  and  save  the  son  ol  thine  handmaid." 
Himself  a  servant,  he  was  also  the  son  of  God's  servant. 
He  w^  hot  only  devot^  to  God,  and  of  his  own  choice  the 
servant  of  the  Most  High,  but  his  mother  before  him  had 
been  faithful  in  her  allegiance  to  Israel's  God.  He  thus 
recalls  his  mother,  and  dwells  with  peculiar  satisfaction  and 
comfort  on  her  religious  life.  It  strengthens  his  faith  and 
it  encourages  his  trust  in  God,  and  he  smms  to  urge  it  as  a 
reason  for  divine  deliverance.  As  a  servant,  he  brings 
himself  within  the  range  of  many  gracious  promises ;  but  as 
the  son  of  God's  handmaid,  he  seems  to  regard  himself  as 
entitled  to  the  benefit  of  other  promises — of  such  as  are 
given  to  parental  piety  and  faithfulness.  As  the  sins  of 
parents,  their  negligences  and  their  evil  example,  fall  upon 
the  chil<iren  in  man^ways,  so  parental  piety  leaves  an  in- 
heritance of  manifold  blessings  to  them. 

He  doubtless  felt  that,  having  honored  his  godly  mother 
by  obeying  her  counsel  and  walking  in  her  footsteps,  this 
might  be  pleaded  in  connection  with  the  promise  to  faith- 
ful and  obedient  children.  He  might  also  have  many  pre- 
cious memories  of  the  lessons  received  at  his  mother's  knees, 
the  prayers  she  habitually  put  up  for  him,  and  of  some 
special  act  of  declaration  in  which  she  had  dedicated  her 
child  to  God.  We  hear  often  in  the  history  of  the  father 
Jesse,  and  the  title  "  son  of  Jesse"  is  of  frequent  occurrence. 
In  one  of  the  grand  Messianic  Psalms  it  is  impressively  ap- 


196  The  Editor-Bishop. 

plied :  "  The  prayers  of  David,  the  son  of  Jesse,  are  ended." 
But  to  the  mother  there  is  hardly  an  allusion,  except  the 
two  which  David  makes,  and  in  these  she  is  simply  de- 
scribed as  "  thine  handmaid."  .Why  should  he  nQt  have 
pleaded  the  piety  of  his  father  as  well,  and  have  dwelt  , 
upon  his  uprightness  and  his  character  as  God's  servant? 
That  he  was  a  man  of  pure  and  righteous  character  we  have 
no  reason  to  doubt,  and  yet  the  son  of  Jesse  is  still  more 
the  son  of  his  mother.  He  honors  her  with  such  mention 
as  indicates  his  deepest  love  and  reverence,  and  as  if  his 
own  character,  as  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  were  the  out- 
growth of  hers  as  the  Lord's  handmaid. 

We  gather  from  these  references  that  the  mother's  mem- 
ory was  habitually  cherished,  and  that  the  impress  of  her 
teachings  and  example  was  such  as  to  leave  a  lasting  influ- 
ence, and  also  that  her  relation  to  God,  as  "thine  hand- 
maid," was  to  him  a  source  ot  strength  and  hope.  He 
had  come  to  a  throne,  and  had  come  to  be  possessor  of  great 
riches  and  power.  Great  and  famous  as  he  was,  he  refers 
to  his  mother,  and  counts  it  as  his  greatest  honor  that  she 
was  a  servant  of  God,  and  that  he  had  walked  in  the  same 
path.  It  was  something  to  be  thankful  for  that  he  had  such 
a  mother ;  and  the  thought  of  her  in  his  troubles  was  an 
inspiration  to  his  faith  and  trust  in  God.  Besides  the 
broader  field  of  promises  which  her  relation  to  God  opened 
to  David's  mind,  there  may  have  been  also  the  remembrance 
of  her  prayers,  and  the  feeling  that  the  power  of  them  still 
lingered  at  the  throne,  and  might  be  as  a  shield  to  him  in 
times  of  calamity.  She  may  have  been  long  dead,  but  he 
felt  that  her  consecrated  life  and  her  fervent  prayers  were 
not  forgotten  before  God.  He  prays  as  if  God's  strength 
and  deliverance  were  somehow  to  reach  him  through  her, 
and  that,  beyond  his  own  relation  to  God  as  his  servant, 
and  beyond  his  own  faith,  hers  were  to  be  c(  uuted  and  were 


Family  Religion.  197 

to  contribute  to  his  welfare.  He  seems  to  feel  that  his 
mother  st()od  related  to  him  and  to  God  as  the  highest  of 
any  earthly  priesthood.  In  his  great  trial,  while  he  flies  to 
God  and  hides  himself  in  his  pavilion,  he  also  nestles  in 
the  bosom  that  pillowed  his  infant  head.  He  comes  to  him 
who  dwells  between  the  cherubim  for  refuge  and  support, 
and  yet  in  his  coming  he  is  emboldened  by  the  memory  of 
his  mother's  exemplary  and  holy  life.  He  had  not  ceased 
to  feel  the  power  of  it  in  his  own  heart,  and  he  also  felt 
that  God  had  not  forgotten  it.  Sure  of  being  the  servant 
of  God,  and  claiming  promises  on  that  score,  he  strength* 
ens  his  case  and  makes  his  position  firmer  by  reference  to 
his  mother's  holy  and  consecrated  service.  In  this  hour  of 
conflict  and  of  prayer  the  only  earthly  name  and  the  only 
human  memory  are  the  name  and  memory  of  his  mother. 
No  other  influence  is  like  this  in  its  depth  and  power;  no 
other — except  that  of  God  himself — so  penetrates  the  whole 
being  and  survives  the  changes  and  fortunes  of  life. 

But  for  these  brief  allusions  we  should  have  known  al- 
most nothing  of  David's  mother;  but,  brief  as  they  are, 
they  disclose  the  fact  that  the  greatness,  glory,  and  i)iety 
of  her  royal  son  were  chiefly  due  to  her  as  the  Lord's  hand- 
maid. All  this  is  the  reiteration  of  a  commonplace  truth,  and 
only  an  illustration  of  a  mother's  influence.  And  yet  it  is 
an  illustration  drawn  from  a  somewhat  peculiar  aspect  of 
that  influence,  as  having  its  highest  manifestation  in  the 
cry  of  the  soul  after  God. 

Happy  is  the  son  who  can  revere  his  mother  as  the  hand- 
maid of  the  Lord,  and  who,  though  dead,  yet  speaks  by 
the  faith  which  she  exhibited.  And  happy  is  the  mother 
who  realizes  the  responsibility  of  her  position,  and  who,  as 
God's  handmaid,  consecrates  her  children  to  Christ,  and 
stamps  them  indelibly  with  her  own  pure  and  heavenly 
character.     Genuine  piety  in  the  mother  cannot  fail  to  tell 


198  ,  The  EuixoR-Bisuor. 

upon  the  character  of  the  children ;  but  it  must  be  of  such 
depth  and  of  such  a  type  as  to  command  the  respect  and 
the  love  of  the  children.  There  are  thousands  of  devoted 
mothers,  unselfish,  careful,  affectionate,  blameless  in  general 
deportment,  and  attentive  to  the  ordinary  needs  of  their 
children;  but  the  impression  upon  their  children  is  not 
that  they  are  first  and  chiefly  the  servants  of  God.  Their 
religion  is  not  the  main  thing,  their  nearness  and  consecra- 
tion to  God  do  not  so  dominate  the  character  and  life  as  to 
make  these  the  most  memorable  things  in  the  thoughts  and 
«iemories  of  their  children.  The  mother's  religion  is  apt 
to  be  that  of  the  child.  The  son  who  has  not  seen  it  so  ex- 
emplified in  her  as  to  command  his  respect  and  his  convic- 
tion of  its  truth  and  excellence  may  doubt  of  it  ever  after- 
ward. A  mother's  piety  is  about  the  strongest  bulwark 
against  the  attacks  of  skepticism  and  the  inroads  of  vice 
that  a  young  man  can  have.  Her  character  as  a  Christian 
should  be  so  decided,  so  unquestioned,  and  so  clear  in  its 
exhibition  of  the  Christian  graces  as  to  refute  every  device 
of  the  adversary  of  the  soul.  Fortunate  are  the  children 
who  in  the  hour  of  adversity  can  gain  heart  and  hope  from 
the  recollection  of  a  mother's  piety,  and  who,  even  in  their 
prayers,  can  make  mention  of  her  as  "thine  handmaid." 


SOUL  EDUCATION, 


TRAINING  FOR  THE  LIFE  TO  COME. 

IT  gives  dignity  and  importance  to  the  most  insignificant 
things  in  our  experience  if  we  habitually  look  upon  them 
as  a  part  of  our  education  for  the  future  world.  There  are 
a  thousand  littlf  things — important  for  the  present  welfare 
— that  we  do  not  regard  as  having  any  bearing  upon  the 
endless  hereafter.  The  child  is  taught  industry,  economy, 
and  thrift,  because  these  elements  of  character  are  the  con- 
ditions of  success  in  this  world.  He  is  given  a  practical 
education,  is  taught  such  branches  as  have  an  immediate 
application  in  his  daily  work.  He  learns  a  trade  that  he 
may  win  his  bread  and  provide  for  his  temporal  comfort. 
Thus  a  great  part  of  the  training  of  youth  has  reference 
mainly  to  the  preparations  for  the  life  that  now  is. 

The  toil  of  men  in  the  field  of  active  pursuits  is  incited, 
first  of  all,  by  the  great  argument  of  necessity.  Food  and 
raiment  and  an  enjoyable  home  can  only  be  secured  by  the 
drudgery  of  daily  labor.  Much  of  it  is  spent  in  menial 
services  or  in  attention  to  details  which  in  themselves  have 
no  interest  or  significance  whatever.  The  farmer  plods 
wearily  after  the  plow.  It  is  the  same  dull  round  of  sow- 
ing and  reaping,  and  the  effort  to  extort  from  the  soil  that 
which  is  yielded  with  reluctance  to  his  persevering  indus- 
try. The  mechanic  shoves  the  plane  and  drives  nails;  he 
lays  brick  and  plasters  walls ;  he  builds  houses  and  repairs 
them.  The  thrifty  housewife  is  busy  all  the  day  with  the 
affairs  of  kitchen,  laundry,  and  the  sweeping,  dusting,  and 
mending  and  making.     Woman's  work  is  never  done,  and 

(199) 


200         .  The  Editor-Bishop. 

much  of  it  is  made  up  of  items  both  petty  and  irksome. 
Clerks,  sewing-women,  agents  in  all  sorts  of  business,  find 
nothing  in  their  tasks  beyond  the  money  they  command.  It 
is  very  much  the  same  with  the  merchant  who  is  engrossed 
with  the  management  of  heavy  operations,  tmd  with  law- 
yers and  doctors  who  spend  their  lives  in  ministering  to 
their  clients  and  patients. 

What  a  world  of  care,  anxiety,  and  weariness  is  repre- 
sented by  these  manifold  aspects  of  human  activity  and 
toil!  And  then  we  are  to  consider  in  this  connection  the 
failures,  the  poverty,  the  sore  travail,  the  sharp  pain  of 
body,  the  heart-aches  that  are  incidental  to  almost  every  con- 
dition. Surely  all  must  have  large  reference  to  our  eternal 
future.  They  must  be  for  our  learning  not  with  sole  nor 
with  chief  regard  to  this  world.  There  must  be  something 
in  these  petty  and  groveling  affairs  which  necessarily  occu- 
py the  most  of  our  time  that  tells  upon  a  nobler  future. 
The  earthly  ends  are  ennobled  by  the  love  and  sacrifice  and 
patience  that  are  in  them.  But  these  ends  are  only  shad- 
ows of  something  higher.  The  discipline  of  the  boy  which 
fits  him  for  the  work  of  this  life  is  also  fitting  him  for  some 
grander  arena,  and  that  which  prepares  him  for  his  work 
here  only  introduces  him  to  the  more  thorough  school  which 
is  to  complete  his  character  and  open  to  him  the  boundless 
future. 

The  real  discipline  is  in  the  practical  and  the  arduous 
pursuits,  in  the  duties  which  in  themselves  we  loathe,  and 
in  the  things  that  annoy,  vex,  and  disgust  us.  For  a  time 
it  would  seem  best  that  we  should  be  bound  down  to  the 
clods  of  earth,  and  that  the  powers  and  aspirations  which 
have  been  divinely  breathed  into  us  should  for  awhile  be 
chastened  and  repressed  by  this  worldly  turmoil  and  care. 
Out  of  this  dark  and  trying  condition  pure  and  noble  souls 
come  up  like  the  verdure  and  bloom  that  spring  from  the 


Soul  Education.  201 


garden  mold.  It  is  the  hardne^  of  our  lot  in  this  ever- 
pressing  round  of  trivial  cares  and  labors  that  makes  up  the 
training  element  in  it.  The  discipline  that  comes  fro.m 
what  is  seemingly  mean  and  contemptible  is  what  the  soul 
needs  for  its  future  destiny.  The  temptation  to  fret  and 
pine  under  this  dispensation  of  forced  and  uncongenial  toil 
must  be  met  and  cured  by  the  abiding  conviction  that  it  is 
a  stage  in  the  process  by  which  the  blossoms  and  fruitage 
of  the  skies  are  to  be  reached. 

We  do  not  now  refer  to  the  discipline  of  affliction  in  its 
deepest  manifestation.  It  is  more  difficult  to  see  the  good 
in  our  allotments  of  lowly  toil  and  exacting  and  wearisome 
duties  than  it  is  to  realize  the  mission  of  sorrow  and  l)e- 
reavement.  Our  self-respect  and  our  claims  ujx)n  the  re- 
spect of  others  are  raised  consciously  by  mighty  and  excep- 
tional griefs.  These  griefs  command  the  homage  of  men  as 
they  do  the  special  notice  of  the  divine  promises.  They  lift  the 
soul  up  so  powerfully  and  so  graciously  that  a  sense  of  their 
exalting  influence  is  felt  and  realized.  But  these  daily  and 
hourly  servitudes,  and  this  inexorable  bondage  to  the  tyr- 
anny of  earthly  needs,  require  a  patience,  submission,  and 
a  iaith  of  a  higher  order. 

Our  blessed  Lord,  found  in  fashion  as  a  man, "  took  upon 
him  the  form  of  a  servant."  The  most  of  his  earthly  life 
was  probably  spent  in  Joseph's  work-shop.  Obscure  toil 
was  his.  Those  were  long  years — weary  ones — that  he  spent 
in  such  work  as  the  poorest  peasant  might  have  done.  The 
healing  hands,  the  miracle-working  hands,  the  hands  after- 
ward lifted  in  blessings  as  he  ascended,  were  used  to  the 
rough  tools  of  the  carpenter.  This  mind  of  minds,  this 
grandest  and  purest  of  souls,  was  for  a  period  subjected  to 
the  ordeal  of  the  most  lowly  and  the  most  trying  of  earth- 
ly conditions.  It  was  a  part  and  much  the  longest  perio4 
of  his  human  training.     It  is  so  with  the  most  of  his  disci- 


202  The  EDixoii-BisHor. 

pies.  We  are  moving  in  fhe  Master's  footsteps,  if  the  train- 
ing be  accepted  by  us  with  a  contented  and  courageous 
spirit.  There  is  a  joy  set  before  us  as  there  was  before  him. 
Those  who  endure  and  labor  with  cheerful  patience  shall  in 
due  time  go  up  from  this  training-school  to  the  thrones  and 
glories  of  the  brighter  world. 


AT  THE  FEET  OF  JESUS. 

This  is  the  attitude  of  a  true  disciple.  It  is  expressive 
of  humility,  docility,  dependence.  The  disciple  has  every 
thing  to  learn.  He  is  ignorant;  he  may  be  under  the  do- 
minion of  error,  and  he  comprehends  but  partially  and  im- 
perfectly the  things  which  make  for  peace  and  righteous- 
ness. He  is  a  learner,  and  is  willing  and  anxious  to  be 
taught.  He  sits  at  Jesus'  feet.  His  lieart  is  open,  his  ear 
is  attent,  his  eye  is  upon  the  gracious  Teacher.  He  is  more 
absorbed  in  him  than  in  the  outward  affairs  of  life.  These 
may  occupy  his  hands  and  make  his  daily  houi-s  busy  with 
the  cares  of  the  world,  but  he  does  not  withdraw  himself 
from  Christ.  He  may  intermeddle  with  all  knowledge, 
and  study  what  the  great  and  good  have  w  ritteu ;  but  Christ 
alone  is  his  Master,  and  directly  from  him  he  receives  the 
word  of  life.  The  art  of  Christian  discipleship,  if  such  an 
art  there  be,  is  in  this  absolute  deference  and  submission  to 
Christ,  and  all  real  disciples  are  taught  of  God  through 
Christ.  Mary  "sat  at  Jesus'  feet,  and  heard  his  word." 
This  is  a  picture  of  beauty  as  clearly  cut  as  a  cameo,  and 
as  spirited  in  its  lines  as  the  most  exquisite  engraving.  It 
stands  for  all  time  as  the  best  type  of  the  humble,  unworld- 
ly, reverent,  studious  disciple  as  a  learner  in  the  school  of 
Christ.  It  illustrates  the  Master's  words :  "  Take  my  yoke 
upon  you,  and  learn  of  me;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls."     All  the 


Soul  Educatiox,  203 

riches  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  are  hid  in  Christ,  and  it 
is  at  his  feet  that  these  riches  are  discovered  to  us.  The 
attitude  of  the  soul  toward  Christ  is  every  thing.  The 
glory  of  the  Lord  will  never  be  seen  in  his  face  until  in 
humility,  self-abasement,  and  fiiith  we  sit  at  his  feet.  The 
glory  beams  only  upon  those  who  look  up,  and  the  rays  fall 
only  upon  the  lowly  and  contrite  ones.  We  may  be  sure 
that  Jesus  delights  in  such  disciples ;  but  how  complete  and 
satisfying  is  the  joy  of  those  who  have  come  to  realize  that 
Christ  is  their  Teacher  and  Lord ! 

There  is  in  him  the  teaching  of  himself  The  Teacher  is 
himself  "  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God."  If 
he  had  only  lived  and  said  nothing,  the  light  flashing  from 
his  person  would  have  been  greater  than  that  which  shines 
in  the  words  of  prophets  and  scribes.  If  man  never  spake 
like  this  man,  it  is  also  true  that  never  man  lived  like  this 
man.  In  other  cases  the  treasure  is  in  earthen  vessels,  but 
in  him  it  is  in  a  golden.  His  teaching  life  and  his  teaching 
character  are  absolutely  perfect.  At  the  feet  of  such  a  jx;r- 
8on  we  can  sit,  and  feel  that  we  are  honored  by  such  inti- 
macy. Whatever  he  may  say,  the  background  of  his  per- 
sonality is  steadily  luminous.  He  is  himself  the  great  les- 
son, and  the  faultless  illustration  of  a  perfect  and  glorious 
manhood.  It  is  not  so  of  IMoses,  Paul,  or  John.  In  them 
the  ideal  is  blurred,  and  the  outlines,  at  some  points,  are  in- 
distinct.    In  Christ  the  Teacher  himself  is  perfect. 

When  we  pass  to  the  word-teaching  of  Christ  we  have  at 
least  the  seed-truths  of  all  truth  and  the  words  which  are 
spirit  and  life.  Here  we  sit  at  his  feet  not  only  when  we 
study  his  own  words,  but  also  when  we  pore  over  those  of 
Christ-inspired  men.  It  is  the  Spirit  of  Christ  in  them  that 
gives  authority  to  the  words  of  evangelists  and  apostles. 
We  sit  at  the  feet  of  Paul  only  as  he  sits  at  the  feet  of 
Christ;  and  thus,  whether  our  text  be  in  the  prophets,  Cos- 


204  The  Editor-Bishop. 

pels,  or  Epistles,  we  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  and  hear  his  word. 
The  Spirit  of  Christ  is  the  inspiration  of  all  Scripture,  and 
in  some  sense  it  is  true  that  the  devout  in  all  ages  have  sat 
at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  The  disposition  of  the  heart  and  the 
recognition  of  a  personal  Redeemer  have  been  the  same. 
In  this  inquiring,  receptive  state  of  mind,  how  powerfully 
and  clearly  Christ  teaches!  Under  the  spell  of  his  words, 
how  the  heart  burns,  and  how  the  whole  Bible  glows  with 
promises  and  consolations!  The  good  part,  once  chosen  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus,  becomes  a  precious  treasure  that  cannot 
be  wrested  from  us.  It  is  there  that  the  heart  surrenders, 
the  final  choice  is  made,  and  the  imperishable  blessing  is  re- 
ceived. 

In  some  degre*  all  true  believers  are  taught  by  the  Spirit. 
How  much  and  ho^v  truly  depends  upon  this  attitude  of 
discipleship !  The  "Spirit  of  truth  "  was  given  to  those  who 
sat  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  after  he  ascended.  They  were  at 
the  feet  of  their  invisible  and  glorified  Lord  when  the  bap- 
tism of  fire  came  upon  them.  It  is  while  at  his  feet  that 
the  Spirit  of  the  Son  is  sent  forth  into  our  hearts,  "crying, 
Abba,  Father!"  "For  God,  who  commanded  the  light  to 
shine  out  of  darkness,  hath  shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give  the 
light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of 
Jesus  Christ."  Christ  teaches  through  the  Spirit,  even  as  he 
is  glorified  by  the  Spirit.  This  is  the  complement  of  his 
oflfice  as  our  Teacher,  and  the  completion  of  the  Avork.  The 
need  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  absolute.  We  have  sat  at  the 
feet  of  Christ  to  little  purpose  if  we  have  not  realized  this 
divine  illumination  and  felt  the  presence  of  the  Comforter. 
How  and  where  is  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  be  sought? 
It  is  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  This  attitude  of  disciplesbip  in- 
cludes all  the  conditions.  Divested  of  pride,  purged  of  self, 
humble,  contrite,  believing  with  the  whole  heart  open  and 
waiting  and  expecting  the  promised  blessing.    The  only  dif- 


Soul  Education.  205 


ficulty  is  in  coming  to  Jesus — sitting  at  his  feet.  It  is  only 
the  upward  look — the  eye  that  gazes  from  the  lowliest  vale 
of  humility — that  gets  so  much  as  a  glimpse  of  the  spirit- 
giving  Saviour. 

What  fullness  of  blessings  are  for  us  in  Christ,  in  him 
who  lived  that  we  might  learn  of  him,  who  spake  that  we 
might  hear,  and  who  ascended  that  he  might  flood  the  trust- 
ing and  waiting  soul  with  supernatural  light!  At  Jesus' 
feet  is  the  only  place  of  rest  and  peace.  Here  only  have 
the  perplexed  and  the  sorrowing,  the  guilty  and  the  peni- 
tent, found  rest  unto  their  souls.  At  Jesus'  feet,  if  we  can 
only  get  there  and  there  abide,  we  shall  be  so  charmed  with 
the  sweetness  and  quietude  of  its  bliss  as  to  desire  nothing 
more  this  side  of  heaven. 


WAITING  FOR  THE  LORD. 

This  attitude  of  waiting  is  insisted  upon  by  Christ  and 
by  the  apostolical  writers.  It  is  the  condition  of  readiness 
and  of  preparation  for  the  end.  Whether  of  the  end  of 
the  world,  the  end  of  existing  order  of  society  and  of  gov- 
ernments, or  their  own  end,  the  substance  of  the  admonition 
is  to  be  ready.  To  be  prepared  for  the  second  coming  of 
Christ  and  for  the  final  judgment  is  to  be  ready  for  what- 
ever may  happen.  In  such  a  state  the  Christian  is  ready 
for  tribulation,  for  bereavement,  for  tumults  and  revolu- 
tion, for  sickness,  and  for  death.  If  it  be  a  definite  looking 
for  the  personal  coming — for  the  great  parousia — this  in- 
sures a  spiritual  readiness  for  whatever  may  come  to  pass. 
**  Looking  for  that  blessed  hope,  and  the  glorious  appearing 
of  the  great  God  and  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,"  is  connect- 
ed with  the  operations  of  the  grace  of  God  in  the  heart. 
To  "love  his  appearing"  is  a  mark  of  the  true  believer. 

This  looking  and  loving  is,  however,  consistent  with  the 


206  The  Editor-Bishop. 

conviction  that  the  manifestation  of  Christ  is  yet  very  dis- 
tant. Ages  may  roll  between  us  and  that  event,  and  it  may 
come  long  after  we  have  entered  the  paradise  of  God.  All 
this  does  not  affect  the  blessedness  of  the  hope  nor  the  wait- 
ing for  the  Lord's  coming.  Whether  here  on  earth  battling 
with  temptation  and  sin,  or  yonder  in  the  home  of  those 
who  have  entered  into  rest,  the  looking,  the  waiting,  the  ex- 
pectation are  common  to  all  the  saints.  We  are  waiting 
and  they  are  waiting,  "  that  they  without  us  should  not  be 
made  perfect."  This  polar  star  of  hope  never  sets,  but 
shines  alike  upon  those  who  linger  on  earth  and  upon  those 
who  have  crossed  the  flood.  Every  eye  is  turned  toward 
this  grandest  and  most  momentous  event.  Every  sanctified 
heart  on  earth  and  in  glory  is  yearning  for  the  appearing. 

As  to  ourselves,  this  waiting  is  practical.  It  is  not  a  state 
of  inaction,  of  wonder-worship,  of  indifference  to  the  duties 
of  life.  The  loins  are  girded,  and  the  lights  are  burning, 
and  the  servants  are  diligently  improving  the  gifts  intrusted 
to  them.  There  is  no  fanatical  excitement,  no  interruption 
of  the  work  given  us  to  do.  Rather  does  this  expectation 
quicken  the  spiritual  life  and  incite  to  greater  zeal  in  labor- 
ing for  the  spread  of  the  gospel  and  for  the  salvation  of  the 
world.  If  saved  at  all,  the  world  must  be  saved  before 
"the  appearing  of  the  great  God  and  of  our  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ."  The  grace  of  God  and  the  present  instrumentali- 
ties must  achieve  the  salvation  of  the  human  race.  The 
coming  of  Christ  is  the  end,  the  consummation  of  all  things, 
the  last  judgment,  and  the  final  and  complete  reward  and 
glorifying  of  the  good. 

With  reference  to  such  results,  how  necessarily  the  belief 
leads  to  vigilance,  to  the  diligent  use  of  the  grace  and  op- 
portunities given,  and  to  ever-increasing  effort  to  advance 
the  cause  of  Christ.  It  is  the  hour  of  our  opportunity  and 
of  our  responsibility.     We  know  not  when   the  end   may 


SoLL  Education.  ^07 


come ;  but  our  accountability  will  be  gauged  by  its  immi- 
nence— by  the  possibility  of  its  coming  at  any  time.  How 
much  time  God  will  give  the  Church  to  execute  the  great 
commission  cannot  be  known.  He  never  intended  that  we 
should  know,  and  he  has  left  it  in  obscurity,  that  every  gen- 
eration should  do  its  utmost  to  bring  the  world  to  Christ. 
The  premillennial  theory,  based  upon  the  idea  that  present 
gospel  methods  are  a  comparative  failure  and  that  the  per- 
sonal reign  of  Christ  on  earth  is  to  bring  in  more  powerful 
and  effectual  means  of  bringing  men  to  repentance,  is  a  the- 
ory that  paralyzes  effort  and  weakens  faith.  Consistently 
with  such  &  theory,  we  might  wait  inactive  and  with  folded 
hands,  and  our  missionary  zeal  might  sleep  until  the  voice 
of  the  archangel  and  the  trump  of  God  call  us  to  awake. 
It  is,  however,  the  delay  of  that  trump  and  the  silence  of 
that  voice  that  loudly  call  us  to  action.  The  world  must 
be  saved  before  the  Lord  descends  from  heaven  with  a 
shout;  and  our  own  souls  must  be  arrayed  in  righteousness, 
and  we  must  be  perfected  in  love  before  that  day. 

Waiting  is,  therefore,  working.  It  is  laying  broad  and 
deep  foundations,  and  building  for  the  ages.  It  is  an  intense 
realization  of  the  fact  that  the  gospel  is  the  only  hope  of  the 
world,  and  that  there  is  nothing  more  in  the  way  of  means 
and  instrumentalities  to  come  forth  from  God.  The  coming 
that  saves  and  redeems  is  already  consummated  and  at  work ; 
the  coming  that  judges  and  glorifies  is  that  for  which  we 
look.  How  would  preachers  preach,  how  would  Christians 
live,  how  would  they  all  run  in  the  race  of  usefulness,  if 
they  were  thus  waiting  for  their  Lord?  Their  greatest 
readiness  would  be  in  their  complete  consecration  and  in 
the  absorbing  endeavor  to  pluck  from  the  fire  as  many 
brands  as  possible. 

And  yet  there  is  a  waiting  that  is  full  of  self-deception 
Tind  danger^— a  current  talk  about  a  millennium  that  is  to 


208  The  Editor-Bisuop. 

usher  in  a  new  and  different  dispensation,  and  in  which  the 
old  gospel  methods  are  to  be  superseded.  Perhaps  the  serv- 
ant who  buried  his  talent  was  one  of  these  sincere  but  de- 
luded souls.  He  was  waiting  for  his  Lord,  but  not  wisely- 
waiting.  He  was  looking  for  him,  but  only  to  be  met  with 
rebuke  and  shame.  The  foolish  virgins  were  also  waiting 
for  their  Lord,  and  they  slept  the  sleep  of  carnal  security. 
They  thought  they  were  ready,  but  the  doors  of  heaven 
were  shut  against  them.  The  true  waiting  is  thus  distin- 
guished from  the  false.  It  is  a  right  apprehension  of  what 
the  Lord's  coming  is — a  coming  to  judge,  to  punish,  and  to 
reward,  and  a  coming  that  closes  the  gospel  offer  to  the 
world.  It  is  such  a  life  as  takes  its  tone  and  impetus  from 
a  blessed  hope  that  also  rivets  upon  the  conscience  and  heart 
the  vast  issues  involved.  This  true  waiting  brings  Christian 
men  face  to  face  with  their  great  and  fearful  responsibilities, 
and  arouses  in  them  all  the  faith  and  zeal  and  watchfulness 
of  a  trumpet-blast  from  the  throne  of  judgment.  Waiting 
for  their  Lord,  they  are  in  the  vestibule  of  eternity,  in  the 
ante-chamber  of  the  august  Presence,  and  in  joyous  readi- 
ness to  lay  their  charges  down  at  the  Master's  feet.  Wait- 
ing here  with  fidelity,  they  move  at  length  into  brighter  con- 
ditions of  waiting  until  he  comes. 


CHRISTIAN  DUTIES. 


THE  DUTY  OF  PLEASING. 

THERE  are  cynical  and  half  brutal  natures  that  take  an 
evident  satisfaction  in  crossing  the  desires  and  thwart- 
ing the  plans  of  others.  They  are  rough,  uncouth,  and  dis- 
obliging in  their  intercoui-se  for  no  other  apparent  reason 
than  that  they  like  so  to  be.  It  is  a  way  they  have  of  as- 
serting their  individuality  and  independence,  or  of  taking 
their  revenge  for  the  selfishness  and  wrong  which  they  im- 
agine the  world  has  shown  toward  them.  Those  who  have, 
through  long  and  severe  struggles,  attained  to  wealth,  and 
feel  themselves  masters  of  the  situation,  are  often  harsh  and 
inconsiderate  in  their  dealings  with  subordinates  and  with 
those  who  have  been  less  successful  in  life.  They  sought  to 
please  when  there  was  an  object  and  when  there  were  selfish 
ends  to  gain,  but  when  secure  in  their  wealth  and  position, 
they  became  domineering  and  repellant.  Prosperity  often 
mars  the  manners  and  destroys  their  amiability.  The  out- 
ward deportment  becomes  worse  as  the  man's  circumstances 
become  improved. 

There  are  also  stern  types  of  morality,  and  even  of  godli- 
ness— men  and  women,  in  their  way  both  benevolent  and 
devout,  who  regard  it  as  a  sin  to  make  themselves  perfectly 
agreeable.  They  act  as  if  they  feared  some  danger  in  the 
ordinary  amenities  of  social  intercourse,  and  as  if  remem- 
bering to  be  courteous  would  somehow  compromise  their 
high  calling  and  stain  the  garments  of  their  Christian  pro- 
fession. Their  principles  are  good.  They  are  stanch  in 
asserting  them  and  conscientious  in  making  them  as  repul- 
14  (209) 


210  The  Editor-Bishop. 

sive  as  possible  to  those  of  a  different  persuasion.  As  the 
carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God,  and  as  the  cross  is  fool- 
ishness to  the  natural  man,  they  would,  as  they  believe,  be 
chargeable  with  wickedness  to  attempt  to  conciliate  the 
world.  There  is  offense  in  the  cross,  and  it  is  a  mark  of 
fidelity  in  the  Christian  that  he  make  himself  other  than 
agreeable  to  the  worldly.  So  far  from  seeking  to  please, 
they  would  regard  such  a  course  as  a  betrayal  of  the  grace 
of  God.  They  are  religious  scolds  and  ascetics,  who  are 
really  better  than  they  seem.  They  are  such  saints  as  chil- 
dren are  afraid  of,  and  such  as  Christians  of  a  sunnier  mold 
respect  rather  than  love. 

The  art  of  pleasing  as  it  exists  in  society  is  for  the  most 
part  selfish.  True  politeness  is  the  expression  of  benevo- 
lence in  little  things.  In  social  intercourse,  and  in  all  our 
relations  with  one  another,  it  is  a  thing  of  great  value.  A 
right-minded  and  intelligent  Christian  must  be  polite.  Char- 
ity "doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly."  And  yet  the  pages 
of  Chesterfield  exhibit  the  hypocrisy  and  the  immoral  de- 
signs which  are  often  underneath  the  garment  of  outward 
elegance  and  decorum.  The  money-shaver  is  the  blandest 
of  men  until  he  gets  his  victim  in  his  power.  It  pays  for 
the  dealer  to  show  his  wares  with  a  smile  upon  his  face. 
The  good  salesman  is  the  man  with  good  manners.  We 
are  indebted  to  sharp  competition  for  three-quarters  of 
all  the  politeness  that  is  shown  us  in  business  intercourse 
and  on  the  thoroughfares  of  travel.  To  make  headway  in 
society,  in  business,  or  in  politics,  people  must  be  affable. 
Popularity  is  cultivated  as  the  means  to  the  attainment  of 
selfish  ends,  and  as  the  path  of  success  in  securing  wealth, 
influence,  and  honor. 

It  is  not  unlikely,  however,  that  with  the  most  of  people 
it  is  pleasant  to  please.  If  no  self-interest  is  sacrificed  there- 
by, they  would  rather  make  themselves  agreeable  than  re- 


Christian  Duties.  211 

pulsive.  They  rise  above  indifference,  and  would  rather 
impart  pleasure  when  it  is  in  their  power  to  do  so.  It  may 
be  akin  to  selfishness,  and  it  may  be  something  better.  It 
may  not  spring  from  any  high  principle,  but  if  a  wild  flow- 
er it  has  a  certain  beauty  and  fragrance.  We  meet  with 
teasing,  hectoring  spirits  now  and  then ;  but  they  are  the 
exceptions,  and  with  them  humor  is  largely  in  the  ascend- 
ant.    It  is  their  way  of  giving  and  receiving  pleasure. 

We  come  out  of  all  these  aspects  of  the  subject  to  the 
high  Christian  assertion  of  the  duty  of  pleasing.  Paul  was 
a  gentleman  indeed,  and  in  his  inspired  moods  he  was  care- 
ful to  say,  "  Let  every  one  of  us  please  his  neighbor  for  his 
good  to  edification ; "  and  he  points  to  the  perfect  Example 
when  he  declares:  "For  even  Christ  pleased  not  himself; 
but  as  it  is  written.  The  reproaches  of  them  that  reproached 
thee  fell  on  me."  This  was  a  principle  of  action  in  all  his 
intercourse  with  men.  He  was  probably  the  most  courteous 
and  affable  man  of  his  age.  There  was  nothing  gruff  or 
boorish  about  him.  He  writes  to  his  brethren,  and  cites  his 
own  uniform  course:  "Give  none  offense,  neither  to  the 
Jews,  nor  to  the  Gentiles,  nor  to  the  Church  of  God ;  even 
as  I  please  all  men  in  all  things,  not  seeking  mine  own 
profit,  but  the  profit  of  many,  that  they  may  be  saved." 
We  know  not  how  the  Christian  duty  of  pleasing  could  be 
set  forth  more  completely.  The  end  is  purely  a  benevolent 
one,  divested  utterly  of  the  hollowness  and  selfishness  which 
often  taint  the  elegances  and  courtesies  of  worldly  intercourse. 

Christians  do  well  to  study  this  masterly  exhibition  of  a 
duty  which,  in  its  highest  import,  is  too  much  neglected. 
No  principle  is  to  be  compromised,  no  truth  is  to  be  surren- 
dered ;  and  yet  we  are  to  seek  to  please,  to  make  ourselves 
as  attractive  and  agreeable  as  possible,  and  with  the  single 
purpose  of  benefiting  our  neighbor — "Not  seeking  mine 
own  profit,  but  the  profit  of  many,  that  th^  may  be  saved." 


212  The  Editor-Bishop. 

The  art  of  pleasing  is  not  to  be  surrendered  to  human  van- 
ity, selfishness,  and  venality,  but  it  is  to  be  appropriated 
and  sanctified  as  a  means  of  bringing  souls  to  Christ,  and 
of  winning  them  from  the  service  and  bondage  of  sin. 

However  the  principle  may  apply  to  the  minister  of  the 
gospel,  as  influencing  his  intercourse  with  the  people  and 
the  manner  of  his  pulpit  ministrations,  it  is  also  very  sug- 
gestive iu  its  adaptation  to  our  every-day  Christian  life. 
That  the  children  of  the  house  sometimes  become  averse  to 
instruction  and  worship,  and  regard  the  Bible  as  the  most 
dismal  of  books,  may  not  be  their  fault  altogether.  There 
has  been  stern  parental  discipline  and  peremptory  insistence 
upon  obedience,  but  the  element  of  pleasing  has  been  over- 
looked. Religion,  and  especially  religion  at  home,  is  a 
thing  of  beauty;  but  it  has  not  been  made  so.  Our  neigh- 
bors have  110  good  opinion  of  our  iaith,  because  we  have 
taken  little  or  no  pains  to  add  something  to  their  happiness 
by  such  considerate  attentions  as  would  secure  their  friend- 
ship. Our  course  may  have  been  such  as  needlessly  to 
awaken  opposition  and  excite  prejudice.  We  have  been 
dogmatic  rather  than  kind.  We  have  been  harsh  in  tone 
and  censorious  in  spirit,  forgetting  that  "  the  sweetness  of 
the  lips  increaseth  learning." 

The  Christ-like  man  will  study  how  to  please  his  neighbor 
for  his  good  to  edification.  He  will  please  that  he  may  lure 
him  to  the  cross  and  Uring  him  to  Christ.  He  will  endeav- 
or to  catch  men  with  this  godly  guile,  and  to  lead  them  to 
the  sanctuary  by  the  strong  but  silken  cords  of  love.  The 
school  of  Christ  is  a  school  in  which  the  duty  of  pleasing 
stands  out  prominently.  The  law  cannot  be  silenced,  sin 
must  be  exposed  and  rebuked,  and  the  world's  enmity  must 
be  encountered;  but  the  unselfish  and  earnest  purpose  to 
make  men  better  and  happier  is  a  mighty  force  in  the  Chris- 
tian's work.         • 


CHRisTiA>f  Duties.  218 

"HELPING  ONE  ANOTHER. 

Amongst  other  ways  in  which  Methodists  are  to  evidence 
their  desire  of  salvation  is  the  following,  as  found  in  the 
General  Rules:  "By  doing  good,  especially  to  them  that 
are  of  the  household  of  faith,  or  groaning  so  to  be ;  employ- 
ing them  preferably  to  others;  buying  one  of  another;  hel]> 
ing  each  other  in  business ;  and  so  much  the  more  because 
the  world  will  love  its  own,  and  them  only." 

The  duty  ot  doing  good  to  all  men  is  clearly  recognized 
— "of  every  possible  sort,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  to  all 
men."  The  preference  which  the  rule  declares  for  the  house- 
hold of  faith  is  taken  from  Paul's  words:  "As  we  have  there- 
fore opportunity,  let  us  do  good  unto  all  men,  especially 
unto  them  who  are  of  the  household  of  faith."  The  apostle 
doubtless  had  reference  to  works  of  charity  and  gifts  to  the 
destitute  and  suffering,  but  Mr.  Wesley  has  not  gone  beyond 
the  spirit  of  the  passage  in  applying  it  to  business  affairs. 
To  help  each  other  in  business  is  the  natural  and  sponta- 
neous tendency  of  fraternal  feeling  and  brotherly-kindness. 
The  preference  which  the  relation  of  brethren  demands  in 
the  bestowal  of  alms  is  certainly  not  less  obligatory  in  the 
industrial  pursuits  of  life.  Believers  are  described  as  "the 
household  of  faith"  —  intimately  united  in  fellowship  to 
Christ  and  to  each  other.  Christ  takes  his  disciples  under 
his  special  care,  denouncing  the  heaviest  judgments  upon 
those  who  shall  cause  them  to  stumble,  and  assuring  him  of 
a  special  rew'ard  who  shall  give  "  unto  one  of  these  little 
ones  a  cup  of  cold  water  only  in  the  name  of  a  disciple." 
Christ  recognizes  and  rewards  the  good  done  unto  his  disci- 
ples as  done  unto  himself:  "Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it 
unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it 
unto  me." 

The  help  which  Christians  can  afford  each  other  in  the 
way  of  business  is  often  cousiderable,  and  it  is  the  most  pru- 


214  The  Editor-Bishop. 

dent  and  rational  mode  of  bestowing  benefits.  Where  the 
poor  can  be  placed  in  positions  to  earn  their  bread  and  to 
become  independent  of  charity?  they  are  more  effectively 
aided  than  if  gratuitously  maintained.  Many  a  worthy  me- 
chanic, tradesman,  or  merchant,  vainly  struggling  for  a 
start  in  business,  might  have  been  saved  from  poverty  and 
failure  by  a  little  encouragement  and  patronage  from  his 
brethren  in  Christ.  Young  men  seeking  employment  are 
perhaps  neglected  by  members  of  the  same  Church,  who 
might  with  little  trouble  secure  them  positions.  Where 
there  is  already  abundant  prosperity,  the  relation  to  the 
household  of  faith  should  still  decide  our  choice  in  business 
transactions.  We  may  hope  that  the  wealth  to  which  our 
patronage  has  contributed  will  be  more  expended  to  the 
glory  of  God  in  the  hands  of  a  Christian  than  in  the  hands 
of  an  unbeliever.  Better  enrich  the  man  who  consecrates 
his  money  to  the  support  of  the  gospel  than  build  up  the 
fortune  of  another  who  lives  only  to  hoard  his  gains  or  to 
expend  them  upon  his  lusts. 

This  duty  oi  employing  Christians  preferably  to  others, 
and  buying  one  of  another,  is  of  easy  and  wide  application. 
Every  day  there  are  opportunities  in  some  direction  to  prac- 
tice it,  and  yet  it  is  often  most  grievously  neglected.  We 
do  not  mean  that  we  are  to  buy  of  each  other  without  re- 
spect to  price,  nor  that  we  are  to  employ  Christians  without 
regard  to  qualifications.  Other  things  being  equal,  the  pref- 
erence is  to  be  given  them  in  trade  and  in  employment.  If 
the  Methodist  does  not  do  as  well  by  me  as  another,  then  I 
must  go  where  I  can  do  the  best;  but,  with  the  rule  thus 
qualified,  we  ought  to  be  at  some  pains  and  inconvenience 
to  make  our  connections  in  business  with  those  who  are 
known  to  be  exeniplary  and  good  people.  While  we  would 
reprobate  an  offensively  clannish  and  bi<;otid  spirit,  we  be- 
lieve that  the  rule  of  "helping  each  other  in  business"  is 


Christian  Duties.  215 

of  scriptural  obligation,  and  not  to  be  neglected  without 
censure  and  condemnation.  However  much  we  may  affect 
a  broad  and  liberal  spirit,  we  cannot  set  aside  the  inspired 
declaration,  "Especially  unto  those  who  are  of  the  house- 
hold of  faith."  The  rule  is  often  broken  through  want  of 
consideration  and  from  the  idea  that  business  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  Church  and  religion.  The  claims  of  Christ's 
disciples  are  not  thought  of  in  such  a  connection.  They 
have  never  thought  of  their  merchant,  their  grocer,  their 
employes  as  having  any  religion  at  all,  but  only  as  serving 
them  to  the  best  possible  advantage.  The  duty,  as  Chris- 
tians, of  helping  each  other  in  business  has  never  amounted 
to  a  practical  and  serious  conviction.  It  is  not  our  purpose 
to  give  this  subject  a  sectarian  application,  though  in  this 
respect  Methodists  need  to  be  reminded  of  their  delinquency. 
While  we  do  not  abate  our  catholicity  of  spirit,  there  is 
need  that  the  ties  of  our  brotherhood  be  draw-n  closer  in 
the  temporal  affairs  of  life. 

SERVING  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 
David  was  a  notable  man — a  king  and  a  personage  who 
left  an  impress  upon  his  own  age  and  upon  all  ages  such  as 
few  can  expect  to  do ;  and  yet  in  that  single  stroke  of  Paul's 
concerning  the  great  monarch  of  Israel  we  have  a  revela- 
tion of  what  all  lives  should  be.  The  true  order  of  the 
words  is  given  in  the  margin:  "After  he  had,  in  his  own 
age,  served  the  will  of  God."  The  way  to  benefit  others, 
and  to  contribute  to  the  general  welfare,  is  to  be  governed 
by  this  principle  of  obedience  to  God.  The  highest  ends  of 
benevolence  and  usefulness  are  reached  through  this  su- 
preme regard  for  the  counsel  of  him  who  appoints  to  every 
man  his  work.  The  divine  plan  covers  all  the  ages  and 
moves  toward  a  beneficent  consummation.  It  has  for  its 
object  the  salvation  of  the  world.    Each  con.secrated  person 


216  The  EDiTOR-BisHor. 

is  a  factor  in  this  great  achievement.  To  be  consciously 
in  our  place,  and  to  do  our  part,  would  seem  to  be  what  is 
meant  by  serving  the  will  or  counsel  of  God  in  our  genera- 
tion. 

It  is  much  to  serve  our  generation,  to  help  those  who  are 
immediately  about  us,  to  lessen  the  miseries  of  our  day,  and 
to  add  something  to  the  stock  of  its  ha-ppiuess.  This,  in 
itself,  is  a  worthy  purpose — infinitely  better  than  a  sordid 
selfishness.  It  is  the  limit  of  ordinary  philanthropy  and  of 
pious  zeal.  But  to  serve  the  will  of  God  in  our  generation 
is  broader,  because  it  looks  beyond  our  own  times  and  con- 
siders each  individual  life  and  each  generation  of  lives  as 
contributing  to  the  completion  of  a  divine  purpose  embrac- 
ing the  welfare  of  all  ages.  Recognizing  what  the  will  of  God 
is  in  its  grand  sweep  of  mercy  and  in  its  far-reaching  plan 
for  a  redeemed  world,  the  man  of  faith  puts  himself  in  har- 
mony with  the  divine  counsel,  enters  into  it  with  absolute 
devotion  and  self-renunciation,  and  feels  himself  to  be  vital- 
ly connected  with  the  kingdom  of  God  in  its  progress  and 
development.  His  work  is  delivered  in  his  own  generation, 
but  it  is  related  to  what  others  have  done  before  him  and  to 
that  which  shall  come  after.  While  David  served  the  will 
of  God  in  his  own  generation,  he"  served  that  which  is  the 
light  and  hope  of  this  and  of  all  generations.  What  he 
did  and  what  he  was  have  come  on  down  to  us.  The  serv- 
ice to  our  generation  is  greater  than  that  which  he  rendered 
to  his  own. 

In  some  sort  we  are  like  the  madrepores,  that  build  up 
the  coral-reefs  and  raise  up  islands  and  continents.  Each 
tiny  creature  serves  the  counsel  of  the  Creator  in  its  brief 
generation,  and  helps  in  carrying  out  a  plan  that  stretches 
through  centuries  of  the  earth's  history.  The  Christian 
man,  however,  is  a  conscious  and  intelligent  worker,  and 
comprehends  the  system  of  which  he  is  a  part.     There  is 


Christian  Duties.  217 

this  breadth  and  grandeur  in  serving  the  will  of  God:  It 
touches  most  practically  and  beneficently  the  people  and 
the  times  nearest  to  us,  while  it  tells  upon  future  genera- 
tions and  will  be  felt  in  the  consummation  of  all  things. 
Local  and  temporary  as  to  its  field,  the  results  of  serving 
the  will  of  God  are  universal  and  immortal.  The  life  and 
character  are  divested  of  all  narrowness,  and  are  made  sub- 
lime by  the  conviction  that  our  works  of  love  are  tributary 
to  a  stream  as  vast  as  the  needs  of  the  world.  For  all  time 
the  world  is  blessed  and  made  better  by  these  who  see  the 
will  of  God  and  serve  it. 

Serve  it.  His  will  of  mercy  and  goodness,  his  plan  for 
the  world's  salvation,  his  counsel  of  goodness  toward  us, 
may  be  delayed,  and  even  thwarted.  We  can  serve  his  will, 
or  we  can  stand  in  the  way,  and  by  perverseness,  opposition, 
or  indifference,  hinder  the  fulfillment  of  his  purpose  of  love. 
God  would  have  all  men  to  be  saved.  His  counsel  in  re- 
demption embraces  all  in  the  provisions  of  salvation.  We 
may  help  or  hinder  in  this  work ;  and  we  do.  Our  time  is 
short,  and  our  life-mission  is  to  serve  the  will  of  God,  emi- 
nently as  that  will  goes  out  after  the  lost  and  as  it  has  its 
expression  in  Christ  as  the  Saviour  of  all  men.  The  world 
was  not  saved  in  David's  time,  but  he  did  what  he  could. 
It  may  not  be  wholly  reached  by  the  gospel  in  our  day,  but 
it  is  for  us  to  lay  something  upon  this  rising  monument  of 
truth  and  grace,  and  to  help  swell  the  advancing  tide  till  it 
covers  the  earth  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord.  AVe  might 
say — and  many  do  say  practically — that  the  counsel  of  God 
will  take  care  of  itself,  and  that  his  purpose  for  the  salva- 
tion of  the  world  will  ripen  in  good  time.  But  David 
served  the  will  of  God,  placed  himself  in  harmony  with  it, 
and  wrought  mightily  and  earnestly  to  bring  it  about;  and 
this  is  enough  to  say  of  all  who  have  wrought  righteousness 
and  have  lived  to  much  purpose  in  the  world. 


218  The  Editor-Bishop. 


In  its  highest  and  best  sense,  no  man  serves  his  genera- 
tion unless  that  service  has  had  reference  to  the  icingdoin 
of  heaven  advancing  in  the  world  and  gilding  all  the  ages 
with  its  promises  and  realizations  of  grace  and  the  hope  of 
immortality.  In  serving  themselves  men  build  railroads 
and  factories,  and  fill  the  world  with  their  cunning  and  use- 
fill  inventions.  Trade,  commerce,  and  all  the  industries 
are  advanced  thereby,  and  material  comforts  and  luxuries 
are  multiplied.  They  have  served  their  generation  inci- 
dentally; but  there  has  been  no  thought  of  the  will  of  God, 
no  concern  about  the  kingdom  which  contains  in  itself  the 
real  essentials  of  human  progress  and  happiness.  Compare 
the  great  railroad  magnate  recently  dead  with  Paul  or  with 
Sir  Francis  Lycett.  Tom  Scott  served  his  generation ;  Jay 
Gould  is  serving  his.  But  as  to  serving  the  will  of  God  in 
their  generation,  how  does  the  matter  stand?  It  is  a  prac- 
tical age.  Nobody  is  considered  of  much  account  unless  he 
be  an  inventor  or  a  buildei-  or  a  bold  projector  of  industrial 
enterprises.  The  danger  is  that,  as  a  people,  we  shall  come 
to  the  fearful  pass  of  "having  no  hope,  and  without  God  in 
the  world."  The  coui*se  of  things  must  be  reversed  and  the 
divine  order  must  be  restored.  Men  must  serve  the  will  of 
God,  and  by  such  serving  reach  the  highest  good  for  all 
generations. 


CHRISTIAN  GRACES. 


CONTENTMENT. 

CHRISTIAN  contentment  has  reference  to  the  disposi- 
tions of  Providence.  When  clearly  in  the  path  of  duty 
the  Christian  accepts  the  conditions  of  his  lot.  Content- 
ment can  hardly  be  called  a  grace.  It  is  rather  a  state  and 
habit  of  mind  to  Avhich  several  graces  contribute.  Faith, 
patience,  submission,  are  some  of  the  elements  of  it. 

It  is  not  of  course  to  be  regarded  as  opposed  to  the  spirit 
of  progress.  The  inert  character  of  the  Orientals,  the  lack 
of  all  enterprise  and  improvement  in  some  races,  and  the  com- 
placent thriftlessness  of  some  individuals,  arc  not  illustra- 
tions of  this  scriptural  duty.  Inertness,  laziness,  idleness, 
are  as  far  from  it  as  light  is  from  darkness.  Neither  is  it 
that  aspect  of  fatalism  which  neglects  the  means  and  op- 
portunities of  improvement,  and  then  affects  a  pious  resig- 
nation to  the  will  of  God.  "When  we  have  done  the  best 
Ave  can,  have  used  our  gifts  and  opportunities  as  we  could, 
have  followed  the  indications  of  Providence,  and  have 
sought  in  all  things  the  glory  of  God,  there  is  then  occa- 
sion to  be  content.  Men  are  to  make  their  condition  as 
good  as  possible — they  are  to  be  active,  industrious,  provi- 
dent, energetic.  It  is  right  for  them  to  desire  prosperity 
and  temporal  blessings — to  pray  for  them  and  to  work  for 
them.  But  if  adversity  come,  they  are  to  recognize  the 
hand  of  God  in  their  afflictions,  and  to  acquiesce  in  the  dis- 
pensation, 

Paul  has  more  to  say  about  contentment  than  any  other 
inspired  writer;  and  the  connection  in  which  he  enjoins  it 

(210) 


•-jw 


220  The  Editor-Bishop. 

indicates  that  it  is  to  be  specially  cultivated  under  circum- 
stances of  trial.  He  had  learned,  in  whatsoever  state  he 
was,  to  be  content.  "  Everywhere  and  in  all  things  I  am 
instructed  both  to  be  full  and  to  be  hungry,  both  to  abound 
and  to  suffer  need."  He  was  sure  of  his  divine  calling, 
and  if  want  overtook  him  in  it  he  did  n6t  fret  or  repine, 
but  patiently  and  even  cheerfully  endured.  As  MacKnight 
translates  his  words,  "  I  have  learned  to  be  self-sufficient." 
A  contented  mind  is  indeed  a  kingdom  in  itself.  He  had 
in  a  measure  made  himself  independent  of  outward  condi- 
tions by  a  trustful  and  submissive  spirit.  This  is  the  appli- 
cation for  many:  contentment  in  poverty,  in  affliction,  in 
adversity.  And  this,  we  may  be  sure,  does  not  exclude  the 
desire  of  the  soul  for  a  brighter  and  happier  world.  It 
rather  ministers  to  contpntment,  under  trial  and  in  tribula- 
tions, that  there  is  a  gracious  purpose  in  them  and  a  benefi- 
cent end.  They  are  working  out  for  us  a  weight  of  glory 
— they  are  working  together  for  good.  AVhy  should  we  re- 
bel and  murmur  against  that  which  may  be  needful  for  our 
spiritual  and  eternal  welfare? 

In  other  places  contentment  is  urged  as  opposed  to  cov- 
etousness,  to  the  spirit  of  those  "that  will  be  rich."  "Let 
your  conversation  be  without  covetousness ;  and  be  content 
with  such  things  as  ye  have;  for  he  hath  said,  I  will  never 
leave  thee,  nor  forsake  thee."  "And  having  food  and  rai- 
ment, let  us  therewith  be  content."  This  is  an  illustration 
of  contentment  as  opposed  to  inordinate  desires.  The  de- 
termination to  be  rich,  without  regard  to  the  means,  or 
whether  consistent  with  our  Christian  duties,  is  a  form  of 
discontent.  If  Providence  has  provided  things  necessary, 
but  denied  us  the  luxury  and  style  of  kirge  fortune,  we  are 
to  have  thankful  hearts,  and  not  to  sacrifice  principle  and 
conscience  for  wealth.  The  religious  man  is  not  grasping; 
he  is  not  absorbed  in  the  pursuits  of  gain.     There  is  gener- 


Christian  Graces.  221 

ally  less  contentment  among  people  who  are  prosperous 
and  well-to-do  than  among  the  impoverished  and  suffering. 
Their  discontent  takes  the  form  of  greed — is  the  unsatisfied 
craving  of  avarice.  However  large  the  accumulation,  it  is 
seldom  that  riclj  men  have  enough.  Not  satisfied  with  mod- 
erate profits  and  with  the  safe  and  slow  increase  of  their  pos- 
sessions, they  lj]iuuch  out  into  wild  speculations  and  reckless- 
ly run  in  debt.  In  the  mad  pursuit  of  riches  they  become 
selfish,  indifferent  to  their  obligations,  and  utterly  forgetful 
of  God.  Contentment  antagonizes  the  love  of  money,  and 
clears  the  soul  of  it  as  the  root  of  all  evil. 

Does  religion  bring  contentment?  In  other  words,  does  it 
lead  to  patient,  trustful  submission  to  the  providence  of  God  ? 
and  does  it  §o  moderate  the  desires  as  to  restrain  from  cov- 
etousness  and  all  inordinate  affection?  Certainly  the  grace 
of  God  does  not  teach  us  to  be  idle,  and  to  make  no  en- 
deavor after  earthly  things.  It  does  not  instruct  us  to  be 
sick  if  we  can  be  healed,  nor  to  abide  in  poverty  if  we  can 
get  out  of  it.  Contentment  there  may  be  in  connection 
with  enterprise  and  prosperous  undertakings.  The  most 
laborious  and  energetic  and  successful  may  be  content. 
They  may  be  clear  of  covetousness  and  actuated  by  conse- 
crated motives. 

Contentment  shines  in  both  adversity  and  prosperity.  It 
is  the  habit  of  the  believing  heart.  It  is  another  word  for 
moderation,  for  resignation,  and  for  peace.  It  is  tranquil- 
lity in  danger,  joy  in  tribulation,  a  faith  unshaken  by  the 
storms  of  sorrow.  It  is  a  state  of  mind  that  equalizes  all 
conditions,  and  makes  God  and  his  will  the  sum  of  our 
happiness.  It  is  that  state  wherein  the  affections  are  set  on 
things  above,  wherein  the  mind  is  stayed  on  God,  and  where- 
in there  is  perfect  peace.  True  contentment  can  be  found 
only  in  Christ  as  the  soul's  refuge  and  as  the  stronghold 
of  the  tempted  and  distracted  spirit. 


222  The  Editor-Bishop. 

LOVE  IN  RELIGION. 

Love  is  a  positive  grace.  It  is  not  merely  the  at>sence 
of  ill-will  or  hate.  There  may  be  no  conscious  enmity  to- 
ward God,  but  there  is  indifference.  There  is  no  sense  of 
love  as  supremely  centered  in  God  as  its^bject.  Not  to 
hate  any  one  is  far  from  loving  all.  It  is  sometimes  a  con- 
fession meant  for  a  state  of  grace:  "I  have  no  ill-will  to- 
ward anybody  in  the  world."  This  is  more  than  the  devil 
can  say,  but  it  falls  below  what  the  Christian  feels.  Love 
is  not  a  religion  of  negations.  It  is  actual  and  positive. 
God  and  man  are  not  objects  of  indifference,  or  merely  tol- 
erated without  aversion.  They  are  loved.  The  degree  of 
love,  to  be  loved  at  all,  has  this  positive  quality.  The  high- 
est conception  of  it  is  in  the  Saviour's  interpretation  of  the 
Commandments.  God  is  to  be  loved  with  all  the  heart, 
mind,  soul,  and  strength,  "  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself" 

Paul's  description  of  charity  comes  up  to  that  of  Christ, 
He  describes  the  temper,  behavior,  and  conduct  which  mark 
the  possession  and  the  fruits  of  it.  Here  is  given  the  pict- 
ure of  a  complete  inward  life  and  the  corresponding  outAvard 
conduct.  If  we  come  short  of  this  standard  of  excellence, 
by  that  much  there  is  defect  in  our  Christian  character. 
Love  is  the  essential  in  religion.  Evidently  men  may  die 
for  their  religion,  they  may  give  largely,  they  may  work 
industriously,  but  there  may  be  no  particle  of  love  in  them. 
The  force  of  Paul's  delineation  lies  in  the  contrast  between 
a  religion  of  love  and  a  religion  without  love.  Witness  such 
words  as  these:  "Charity  suffereth  long, and  is  kind;  char- 
ity envieth  not;  charity  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up, 
doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  her  own,  is 
not  easily  provoked,  thinketh  no  evil ;  rejoiceth  not  in  in- 
iquity, but  rejoiceth  in  the  truth  ;  beareth  all  things,  believ- 
eth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things." 

The  true  Christian  chai-acter  is  not  here  drawn  in  con- 


Christian  Graces.  223 

trast  with  that  which  is  avowedly  worldly  and  sinful,  but 
rather  as  opposed  to  a  type  of  religion  in  which  there  is 
pride,  envy,  and  a  pufFed-up  and  carnal  spirit.  It  is  a  test 
of  the  genuine  as  opposed  to  the  false,  as  a  detecter  of  the 
counterfeit  and  debased  coin  that  somehow  gets  into  circu- 
lation in  the  religious  worl^l.  It  gives  the  ring  of  the  pure 
gold,  and  the  image  and  superscription  which  attest  the 
genuine  money.  Spurious  forms  of  religion  had  already 
manifested  themselves  in  the  Church.  Miracles  and  other 
extraordinary  gifts  had  been  perverted.  Selfishness,  ambi- 
tion, vanity,  and  sordidness  had  crept  in.  Vaunting  on  ac- 
count of  superior  gifts  and  attainments  had  become  com- 
mon. Unseemly  l)ehavior  had  followed.  Men  had  become 
intent  upon  the  desire  and  pursuit  of  the  wonderful  and 
the  sensational.  Paul's  picture  of  charity  is  drawn  to  off 
set  this  miserable  travesty  of  religion,  and  to  correct  it. 

We  do  not  expect  to  find  love  in  the  world.  We  may 
find  the  very  opposite  of  it  among  people  who  claim  to  be 
Christians.  And  yet  love  draws  the  line  at  the  point  of 
what  is  absolutely  essential  in  Christian  character.  With- 
out love,  Avhatever  his  profession  and  whatever  his  attain- 
ments and  possessions,  he  is  nothing.  It  Avould  seem  to  be 
a  description  of  that  which  we  must  have  in  order  to  salva- 
tion. Not  an  impracticable  ideal,  but  a  character  to  be  re- 
alized in  the  experience  of  all  who  expect  to  be  saved.  It 
is  manifestly  something  above  ordinary  morality,  something 
in  advance  of  all  forms  of  religion.  It  is  the  heart  and 
essence  of  Christianity,  greater  than  faith  or  hope,  because 
it  is  their  object  and  end  realized — the  heaven  of  character 
and  also  of  happiness. 

Love  is  a  point  of  j^erfectibiiity.  It  is  said  to  be  made 
perfect,  and  that  perfect  love  casteth  out  fear.  The  infer- 
ence is  doubtless  sustained  by  a  large  experience,  that  there 
may  be  love  in  us,  and  yet,  in  degree,  imperfect.     Certainly 


224  The  Editor  ISisiiop. 

perfection  in  it  is  set  before  us.  At  this  point,  if  any,  are 
Christians  to  go  on  to  perfection,  and  to  perfect  holiness  in 
the  fear  of  God.  We  may  take  Christ's  declaration  of  the 
law  of  love — to  love  God  with  all  the  heart,  soul,  mind, 
and  strength,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself — t^r  \\c  may  look 
at  Paul's  description  of  the  more  excellent  way,  or  we  may 
come  to  the  ripe  and  mellow  strains  of  John  as  he  empha- 
sizes the  nature  and  necessity  of  it.  The  perfect  love  may 
not  be  ours,  and  yet,  in  part,  we  dwell  in  love.  It  is  of 
advantage  to  bring  our  self-examination  to  this  one  point, 
since  love  embraces  all.  To  take  in  the  whole  life  in  de- 
tail may  not  be  possible,  but  we  may  test  ourselves  by  this 
one  principle.  In  connection  with  this  test  the  defects  of 
heart  and  life  are  sure  to  be  brought  out. 

Love  is  something  so  positive,  so  pure,  so  unselfish,  so  en- 
ergetic for  good  withal,  that  the  least  deviation  is  readily 
detected.  Perfect  love,  besides  correcting  what  is  uncome- 
ly and  harmful  in  word  and  conduct,  casts  out  the  fear'  of 
death  and  the  judgment.  There  is  no  fear  in  love.  The 
second  death  can  have  no  power  over  him  that  dwelleth  in 
love. 

Love  perfected  must  prove  itself  It  must  keep  a  sweet 
temper  under  great  provocation ;  it  must  maintain  humility 
in  the  midst  of  "  visions  and  revelations;"  it  must  a.ssert  its 
dominion  in  the  prince  of  gainsayers  and  under  the  con- 
tradiction of  sinners.  If  cleansed  from  all  sin,  the  work 
will  be  displayed  in  the  perfect  love  that  reigns  within. 
"  When  that  which  is  perfect  is  come,  then  that  which  is 
in  part  shall  be  done  away."  If  sin  is  anywhere  left  in- 
trenched in  the  soul,  it  will  be  revealed  as  a  flaw  in  our 
love,  and  the  swell  and  glow  and  power  of  a  full  salvation 
will  be  in  the  consciousness  of  love  being  perfected. 


Christian  Gkaces^  225 

THE  DENIAL  OF  SELF. 

This  is  the  first  element  of  disclplesh'ip,  and  one  of  the 
profoundest  of  religious  principles.  Self  has  been  to  the  un- 
converted the  center  of  all.  A  powerful  centripetal  force 
draws  every  thing  in  this  direction.  An  all-ingulfing  self- 
ishness governs  the  natural  man.  The  first,  the  last,  the 
only  thought  is  self  If  somewhat  modified  and  thrown  out 
from  his  own  person  by  natural  affection,  it  is  selfishness 
still  moving  in  an  orbit  which  knows  no  other  center. 
There  is  no  higher  law  than  his  own  will ;  he  turns  "  to  his 
own  way,"  and  self  is  his  only  law.  It  is  self  in  its  rebell- 
ion against  God  that  must  be  denied.  Where  it  exalts  and 
opposes  itself  against  the  divine  authority,  where  it  seeks  to 
follow  the  bent  and  purposes  of  the  carnal  mind,  where  it 
presumes  to  dictate  to  infinite  wisdom,  it  must  be  denied, 
A  man  must  disown  himself  in  order  that  he  may  come  under 
the  Saviour's  yoke ;  he  must  break  off  all  connections  with 
every  other  master  that  Christ  may  be  received  and  confessed 
as  his  Lord.  In  putting  off  the  old  man  with  Ins  deeds,  he 
puts  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Instead  of  obeying  self, . 
living  to  himself,  and  being  full  of  himself,  he  is  now  full 
of  Christ;  imaginations  and  every  high  thing  are  cast  down, 
"  bringing  into  captivity  every  thought  to  the  obedience  of 
Ciirist." 

The  soul,  divested  of  self-will  and  the  spirit  of  revolt 
against  the  divine  authority,  revolves  in  a  new  sphere,  and 
is  drawn  to  Christ  as  the  supreme  and  all-controlling  good. 
This  act  and  state  of  self-denial  leads,  of  course,  to  the  re- 
nunciation of  sin  and  the  disregard  of  all  jjersonal  consid- 
erations in  the  path  of  duty.  Ease,  honor,  liberty,  and 
life  itself  will  be  counted  but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the 
knowledge  of  Christ.  The  fountain  of  all,  however,  is  in 
the  comprehensible  principle  by  virtue  of  which  a  man 
denies  himself,  disowns  himself,  and  realizes  that  he  is  the 


^26  The  Euitor-iJisiioi', 


absolute  property  of  God.  Here  is  the  beginning  of  hu- 
mility, which  forbids  him  "  to  think  of  himself  more  highly 
than  he  ought  to  think,"  and  which  divests  him  of  the  in- 
tolerable egotism  and  conceit  which  sprout  so  rankly  in  the 
soil  of  the  unregenerate  heart.  A  life  of  unexceptionable 
teroperance  and  morality  may  be  wholly  selfish.  The  an- 
chorite and  the  extremest  ascetic  in  religion  may  live  to 
self  as  completely  as  the  veriest  voluptuary  in  the  world. 
Saint  Simeon  Stylites,  on  his  pillow,  with  his  fastings  and 
exposure  to  the  rigors  of  the  seasons,  was  as  full  of  him- 
self as  any  of  the  pleasure-loving  throng  who  wondered  at 
his  almost  supernatural  endurance. 

To  realize  the  self-denial  of  the  gospel,  it  is  not  needful  to 
seek  the  occasion  nor  to  make  it.  It  is  hhnself  that  the  be- 
liever denies,  and  in  this  renunciation  every  possible  thing  is 
embraced.  It  is  not  a  fragment  of  appetite  or  of  ambition 
that  is  sacrificed  here  and  there,  nor  is  it  the  mere  fringes 
and  periphery  of  the  life's  garment  which  are  trimmed  and 
§horn  now  and  then.  Christ  strikes  more  profoundly  and 
.more  comprehensively.  He  does  not  begin  by  lopping  oflT 
the  branches,  but  the  ax  is  laid  at  the  root  of  the  tree.  "If 
any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself."  The 
poor  body  may  be  starved  and  lacerated  and  the  soul  re- 
main supremely  selfish.  Men  may  stand  on  pillars,  live  in 
caves,  wear  sackcloth,  shut  themselves  up  in  cells,  fare  ab- 
stemiously, and  yet  know  nothing  of  self-renunciation.  A 
true  Christian  life  will  touch  the  point  of  sacrifice  in  every 
direction,  simply  because  the  denial  of  self  underlies  all. 
It  is  not  so  much  in  isolated  instances  and  in  partial  phases 
of  duty,  but  in  the  whole  of  life's  purposes  and  achieve- 
ments. It  will  appear  in  the  government  of  appetites,  in 
the  abandonment  of  ease  and  pleasure,  in  giving,  in  work- 
ing for  God.  The  stream  will  rise  to  the  altitude  of  its 
source,  and  the  disowning  of  self  and  the  renunciation  of 


Christian  Graces.  227 

self  will  enter  into  every  performance.  While  a  man  may 
submit  to  flagellation  till  the  flesh  drops  from  his  bones,  and 
even  give  his  b(xly  to  be  burned,  and  yet  know  nothing 
of  true  self-denial,  it  is  not  possible  for  him  to  possess  it 
and  fail  to  exhibit  it  in  every  breath  and  pulsation  of  his 
being. 

The  trouble  should  not  be  to  find  wherein  we  deny  our- 
selves, but  rather  wherein  we  do  not.  And  yet  there  are 
probably  multitudes  of  professed  Christians  to  whom  this 
matter  of  self-denial  is  but  little  more  than  a  gospel  fiction. 
They  are  following  their  ease  and  pleasure.  Their  giving 
is  measured  by  their  convenience;  their  work  in  the  Church 
never  goes  beyond  what  is  perfectly  agreeable.  They  lay 
up  treasure  on  earth;  they  indulge  in  the  fashionable 
pleasures  of  the  world.  To  give  something,  to  do  little, 
and  to  keep  within  the  ordinary  bounds  of  continence  and 
sf)briety,  is  the  measure  of  their  devotion.  There  are  those 
whose  highest  conception  of  this  principle  is  exhibited  in 
lefraining  from  sinful  appetites  and  in  observing  the  out- 
ward duties  of  the  religious  profession.  To  be  crucified 
with  Christ,  to  endure  hardness  as  good  soldiers,  and  to 
bring  their  entire  practice  up  to  the  measure  of  this  denial 
of  self,  is  beyond  their  thought. 

Thousands  are  selfish,  sensuous^  even  voluptuous,  in  their 
religion.  A  comfortable  place  in  the  Church,  where  the 
little  work  that  is  done  is  done  by  others,  and  where  enter- 
taining sermons,  inspiring  music,  and  good  society  contrib- 
ute to  the  agreeableness  of  worship,  is  the  chief  and  crown- 
ing object.  Self-indulgence  comes  not  only  in  worldly  but 
also  in  religious  forms,  and  spreads  its  enervating  spell  over 
the  Church.  The  softness,  shameful  effeminacy,  and  cow- 
ardice of  thus  living  to  self  is  rebuked  by  the  Master's  call 
to  self-denial.  If  Christians  are  to  save  themselves,  they 
must  have  this  salt  of  the  religious  life  in  themselves;  and 


228  The  Editor-Bishop. 

if  the  Church  is  to  save  the  world,  her  members  must  gird 
themselves  for  the  great  work  by  denying  themselves  and 
by  becoming  imbued  with  the  constraining  love  of  Christ, 
"  that  they  which  live  should  not  henceforth  live  unto  them- 
selves, but  unto  him  which  died  for  them,  and  rose  again." 


THE  GRACE  OF  GENTLENESS. 

To  be  gentle  is  to  be  godlike.  In  nature  the  rough  and 
violent  processes  are  exceptional.  The  storms  that  sweep 
the  ocean  and  the  tornadoes  that  devastate  the  land  are 
fitful  and  unfrequent  as  compared  with  the  general  tranquil- 
lity and  more  quiet  r«)vements  of  the  elements.  The  shocks 
of  the  earthquake  are  alarming  because  seldom  repeated. 
For  the  most  part,  the  mighty  forces  of  the  material  uni- 
verse Avork  quietly  and  even  slowly.  The  continents  and 
islands  are  rising  and  sinking  without  perceptible  and  start- 
ling convulsions.  The  wonderful  contrivance  for  watering 
the  earth,  the  falling  showers,  the  refreshing  dew,  the  growth 
of  vegetation,  the  movement  of  the  stars,  the  revolution  of 
the  earth,  are  all  illustrations  of  gentleness  in  the  work  of 
God.  The  world  was  made,  and  is  preserved,  with  but  lit- 
tle violent  demonstration.  Every  thing  goes  on  with  won- 
derful stillness  and  smoothness,  as  if  all  the  ministers  of 
nature  were  shod  with  wool.  The  worlds  roll  on  with  no 
clatter  of  wheels,  the  seasons  continue  their  noiseless  pro- 
cession, the  birth  and  decay  of  the  oak,  and  the  blossoming 
and  withering  of  the  rose  proceed  in  silence.  The  omnipo- 
tent hand,  guided  by  wisdom  and  love,  touches  the  vast  and 
the  minute,  and  forms  and  wields  all  with  an  infinite  deli- 
cacy. It  is  a  gentleness  without  feebleness  and  a  quietude 
united  with  the  most  untiring  activity.. 

This  is  largely  true  in  the  dealings  of  God  with  his  ac- 
countable creatures.     Severitv  in  the  order  of  Providence, 


Christian  Graces.  229 

like  that  of  nature,  is  exceptional.  There  is  gentleness  even 
with  the  unthankful  and  the  impenitent.  Long-suffering  and 
forbearance  usually  attend  their  course.  The  ministries  of 
love  and  persuasion  are  more  than  those  of  wrath.  After 
the  fire  is  "the  still  small  voice,"  and  before  it  also;  and 
this  is  the  constant  and  life-long  appeal.  David  says  once, 
if  not  twice,  "  Thy  gentleness  hath  made  me  great."  What 
would  he  have  been  without  this  gentleness  of  mercy  in  his 
hour  of  guilt  and  crime?  And  what  would  any  of  us  have 
been — and  such  greater  and  better,  as  Abraham  and  Moses — 
without  this  same  tenderness  to  the  weak  and  erring?  The 
operations  of  the  Spirit  are  often  mighty  in  their  gentleness 
— like  the  dew  upon  Hermon  and  as  the  early  and  the  latter 
rain.  In  all  the  wide  ministrations  of  the  Spirit — moving 
on  millions  of  hearts,  hovering  and  warming  dead  con- 
sciences into  life,  inspiring  faith  and  love,  and  peace  and 
joy — there  is  much  of  this  quiet  march  of  power.  All  the 
visible  instrumentalities,  all  the  thousands  of  vocal  tongues, 
all  the  stir  and  uproar  of  earnest  declamation,  are  as  noth- 
ing compared  with  the  unseen  and  often  unconscit)us  work 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  This  great  power  of  life  and  light  is 
abroad,  ever  acting  in  the  world,  awakening,  converting, 
comforting,  and  sanctifying.  It  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the 
events  in  the  moral  and  spiritual  movements  of  every  age, 
molding,  preparing,  and  consummating  the  great  revolu- 
tions in  character  and  history.  In  the  sweep  of  centuries 
the  effects  are  manifest,  and  in  the  individual  experience  the 
results  are  known  and  felt ;  but  the  Divine  Agent  himself 
is  moving  with  an  awful  stillness,  and  in  methods  which  defy 
analysis. 

When  we  come  to  him  "  who  is  m  the  bosom  of  the  Fa- 
ther," the  prophetical  portraiture  is  fully  realized  in  his 
character  and  ministry.  "  He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry,  nei- 
ther shall  anv  man  hear  his  voice  in  the  streets."    On  occa- 


230  The  Editor-Bishop. 

sion  he  could  launch  the  withering  anathema  and  hurl  the 
bolts  of  wrath,  but  Christ  was  preeminently  tender.  He 
was  considerate  of  the  bruised  reed  and  the  smoking  jBax* 
He  gives  his  own  highest  and  most  attractive  qualification 
as  a  teacher :  "  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart."  His  was  a  great  spirit — always  calm,  and  marked 
by  the  gentleness  of  a  temper  ever  under  the  sweetest  spell 
of  love  and  compassion.  Paul,  when  he  appeals  to  the  Co- 
rinthians, beseeches  them  "  by  the  meekness  and  gentleness 
of  Christ."  Of  hb  own  conduct  to  the  Thessalonians  he 
declares  that  "  we  were  gentle  among  you,  even  as  a  nurse 
cherisheth  her  children."  This  grace  he  especially  enjoins 
upon  the  ministry:  "The  servant  of  the  Lord  must  not 
strive ;  but  be  gentle  unto  all  men,  apt  to-  teach,  patient ;  in 
meekness  instructing  those  that  oppose  themselves."  Chris- 
tians are  exhorted  "  to  be  no  brawlei-s,  but  gentle,  showing 
all  meekness  unto  all  men."  Gentleness  is  enumerated 
among  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  in  such  company  as  this: 
"Love,  joy,  peace,  long-suflfering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith, 
meekness  temperance."  James,  in  describing  the  attributes 
of  the  wisdom  that  is  from  above,  places  this  in  the  resplen- 
dent train :  "  But  the  wisdom  that  is  from  above  is  first  pure, 
then  peaceable,  gentle,  and  easy  to  be  entreated,  full  of  mer- 
cy and  good  fruits,  Avithout  jmrtiality  and  without  hypoc- 
risy." Paul's  celebrated  monograph  on  charity  sets  gentle- 
ness as  a  conspicuous  gem  in  the  crown  of  the  queen  of  the 
graces.  Unseemly  behavior,  self-vaunting,  all  roughness 
and  harshness  of  demeanor  are  opposed  to  the  love  which 
towers  above  faith  and  hope. 

Conventional  usage  has  borrowed  the  word  and  given  it 
an  indiscriminate  application.  Gentleman  and  gentlewom- 
an is  a  character  of  the  most  exalted  religious  excellence. 
How  often  it  is  a  misnomer  in  worldly  society  it  is  needless 
to  indicate.     But  among  religious  people  gentleness  has  not 


Christian  Graces.  231 

always  the  prominence  to  which  it  is  entitled.  There  is 
flurry  and  bluster  where  quietness  would  be  more  seemly 
and  far  more  effective.  A  hard,  overbearing,  and  intoler- 
ant spirit  mars  and  deforms  the  character  which  abounds  in 
strength  and  energy.  Firmness  and  uprightness  are  destr- 
tute,  perhaps,  of  tenderness  and  compassion,  and  the  most 
invincible  and  admirable  courage  is  utterly  without  delicacy 
or  refinement  of  feeling.  There  is  a  supposed  incompati- 
bility between  strength  and  gentleness,  and  that  it  is  rather 
in  the  way  of  vigorous  action.  The  push  and  snap  of  vig- 
orous enterprise  and  aggression  would  be  rendered  impotent 
by  the  quiet  temper  and  the  patient  spirit.  Gentleness  is 
thought  to  neutralize  power  and  to  stand  for  all  that  is 
merely  negative  in  character.  But  it  is  not  so  in  God.  The 
meekness  and  gentleness  of  Christ  did  not  weaken  his  min- 
istry, and  Moses  and  Paul  were  the  gentlest  of  men.  It  is 
the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  no  subordinate  part  of  it, 
to  make  men  gentle.  It  is  one  of  the  brightest  features  of 
charity  that  it  polishes  the  inward  and  outward  man  and 
softens  the  harsh  and  dictatorial  disposition.  It  is  often  the 
one  blemish  of  the  otherwise  good  and  great  that  they  are 
not  gentle.  Christians  though  they  be,  they  are  neither 
gentlemen  nor  gentlewomen.  Whatever  other  graces  they 
have,  they  have  not  this.  Other  and  admirable  qualities 
shine  with  a  somewhat  compensating  light,  but  gentleness 
is  something  foreign  to  their  composition. 


THE  EDIFYING  GRACE. 

In  one  of  his  characteristic  parentheses,  Paul,  if  he  does 
not  add  something  to  his  wonderful  delineation  of  love,  epit- 
omizes the  marks  by  which  it  is  to  be  recognized.  "  Knowl- 
edge puffeth  up,  but  charity  cdificth."     The  controversy  in 


232  The  Editor-Bishop. 


the  Church  was  concerning  "  the  eating  of  those  things  that 
are  offered  in  sacrifice  unto  idols."  On  the  part  of  some 
there  was  assumption  of  superior  wisdom,  and  they  were  so 
puffed  up  as  to  disregard  the  views  and  scruples  of  others. 
The  temjjer  was  dogmatic  rather  than  charitable.  There 
was  a  disposition  to  despise  and  override  the  opinions  and 
feelings  of  those  who  could  not  agree  with  them.  Their 
course  was  calculated  to  breed  dissension  and  to  pull  down 
and  destroy.  Certain  opinions  and  convictions  are  knowl- 
edge in  the  apostle's  meaning;  and  these,  when  held  with- 
out love,  are  the  fruitful  source  of  trouble.  Knowledge 
thus  held  puffs  up  the  professoi^s  of  it,  leads  them  to  think 
more  highly  of  themselves  than  they  ought  to  think,  and  to 
brand  those  who  differ  from  them  as  perversely  ignorant 
and  opposed  to  the  truth. 

Practically,  this  knowledge  without  love  is  a  false  knowl- 
edge, a  conceit  and  a  delusion,  and  one  of  the  worst  aspects 
of  self-deception.  "Apd  if  any  man  think  that  he  know- 
eth  any  thing,  he  knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to  know." 
As  a  matter  of  experience,  the  test  lies  in  the  spirit  mani- 
fested. The  same  experience  may  be  differently  apprehend- 
ed, and,  if  formulated  as  a  doctrine,  the  terms  of  the  state- 
ment may  vary;  but  if  called  to  judge  those  who  claim  the 
experience,  we  must  be  governed  by  the  apostle's  declara- 
tion that  "  knowledge  puffeth  up,  but  charity  edifieth." 
Charity,  we  are  sure,  is  not  puffed  up,  but  there  is  a  phase 
of  knowledge  pr  opinion  that  is.  Genuine  love  is  always 
humble,  considerate,  and  of  seemly  behavior.  It  takes  the 
wind  of  pride  and  the  stubbornness  of  dogmatism  out  of 
the  heart,  and  those  who  have  it  will  esteem  their  fellow- 
Christians  more  highly  than  themselves. 

If  the  matter  in  dispute  happens  to  be  love  itself,  then 
the  test  is  nil  the  more  conclusive.  The  puffed-up  spirit, 
that  assumes  superior  sanctity  and  that  sows  the  seeds  of 


Christian  Graces.  233 

caste  and  divisions  among  Christians  of  the  same  commun- 
ion, is  a  wrong  spirit.  It  may  be  mysticism  and  fanati- 
cism, but  it  is  not  the  spirit  of  the  gospel.  That  which  en- 
genders strife  is  not  charity.  An  experience  that  cannot  be 
professed  and  held  so  as  to  promote  harmony  and  peace 
among  converted  people,  and  so  as  to  elevate  without  disin- 
tegrating the  body  of  Christ,  must  be  wanting  in  the  great 
essential.  Charity  edifieth.  It  builds  up  the  Church.  Its 
sweetness  and  beauty  are  diffused  in  the  society,  and  it  is  as 
a  precious  aroma  in  the  house  of  God.  It  is  at  the  point 
where  good  men  differ  that  this  edifying  grace  is  most  con- 
s|)icuously  manifest.  Here  love  comes  in,  if  anywhere;  and 
it  is  here  that  its  power  to  heal  and  build  up  is  exhibited. 
If  at  this  point  there  is  a  puffed-up  spirit,  a  temper  of  in- 
tolerance toward  those  who  apprehend  the  matter  as  we  do 
not,  and  a  disposition  to  disparage  their  spiritual  attain- 
ments, the  presumption  is  that  in  disputing  about  love  we 
have  lost  it.  The  measures  of  opinion  may  be  intolerant 
and  tend  to  schism,  but  those  of  love  will  always  make  for 
peace.  The  methods  of  the  one  are  likely  to  be  exclusive 
and  separating ;  those  of  the  other  will  be  to  unify  and  to 
promote  the  fellowship  of  all  who  have  faith  in  Christ  and 
are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 

The  differences  among  Methodists  on  the  subject  of  Chris- 
tian perfection  have  led  to  a  good  deal  of  trouble  and  to 
much  uncharitable  controversy,  especially  among  our  breth- 
ren in  the  North.  The  variance  seems  to  be  largely  in  the 
way  this  experience  is  apprehended  and  in  the  manner  of  its 
attainment.  It  is  agreed  that  the  substance  of  perfection  is 
love.  In  a  letter  to  one  of  his  correspondents,  Mr.  Wesley 
says:  "I  want  you  to  be  all  love.  This  is  the  perfection  I 
believe  and  teach ;  and  this  perfection  is  consistent  with  a 
thousand  nervous  disorders  which  that  high-strained  perfec- 
tion is  not.     Indeed,  my  judgment  is  that,  in  this  case  par- 


234  The  Editor-Bishop. 

ticularly,  to  overdo  is  to  undo,  and  that  to  set  perfection  too 
high  is  the  most  efiectual  way  of  driving  it  out  of  the  world." 
As  thus  explained  to  Bishop  Gibson,  the  prelate  replied: 
"Why,  Mr.  Wesley,  if  this  is  what  you  mean  by  perfection, 
■who  can  be  against  it?"  And  we  believe  that  among  Meth- 
odists at  this  time  there  is  agreement  on  the  point  that  love 
is  the  bond  of  perfectness,  and  that  love  so  perfect  as  to  cast 
out  fear  is  the  rightful  experience  and  privilege  of  the  chil- 
dren of  God.  There  are  differences  as  to  whether  it  be  a 
growth,  a  second  blessing,  and  as  to  whether  a  residue  of 
sin  is  left  in  the  heart  after  regeneration  which  must  be  re- 
moved by  a  specific  act  of  faith. 

Good  and  holy  people  entertain  these  different  views ;  and, 
for  aught  we  know,  they  always  will.  This  should,  howev- 
er, lead  to  no  divisions  and  to  no  parties  in  the  Church.  If 
love  pervades  all  who  differ,  there  will  be  no  trouble,  there 
will  be  no  invidious  distinctions  and  judgments;  and  while 
love  is  preached  and  sought  and  professed,  special  phases 
of  opinion  will  cease  to  rend  and  divide  the  followers  of 
Christ.  Love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  and  love  builds 
up.  We  have  enlarged  somewhat  upon  Paul's  parenthesis 
wherein  he  gives  us  the  contrast  between  the  knowledge  that 
puffeth  up  and  the  charity  that  edifieth.  We  may  take 
this,  in  connection  with  his  larger  description  of  charity,  as 
our  guide  in  reference  to  what  perfection  is,  and  as  the 
grounds  of  self-exammation.  Every  lineament  in  the  pict- 
ure unfolds  this  feature  and  expression  of  love.  It  is  the 
edifying  grace.  It  strengthens  and  encourages  the  weak 
and  struggling.  It  is  not  provoked  by  the  supposed  igno- 
rance and  misconception  of  those  who  may  be  regarded  as 
weaker  brethren.  It  does  not  separate  itself  from  those 
who  may  be  on  the  lower  rungs  of  the  ladder  of  grace,  but 
draws  and  cheers  and  comforts  "till  we  all  come  in  the 
unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  G(xl, 


Christian  Gkaces,  235 

unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the 
fullness  of  Christ." 

Charity  edifies  the  whole  body  of  Christ  by  uniting  it  in 
the  bonds  of  love.  It  counter-works  the  tendency  to  fanat- 
icism, because  it  leavens  the  entire  spirit  and  tempers  the 
harshness  of  strong  convictions  with  the  consciousness  that 
all  are  liable  to  err.  The  true  and  the  false  in  religion  are 
often  much  alike  in  certain  stages  of  development,  but  the 
tares  and  the  wheat  are  manifest  in  what  they  produce. 
The  principle  of  discrimination  is  given  in  reference  to  the 
most  vital  question  of  religious  life.  That  which  pufis  up, 
whatever  be  the  profession,  is  a  delusion  at  the  least,  if  it  be 
not  an  error  bordering  on  sin.  That  which  edifies  is  the 
true  and  genuine  doctrine  and  the  experience  which  an- 
swers to  the  word  of  God.  The  edifying  power  of  charity 
is  in  the  life,  tempers,  and  words  of  those  who  possess  it 
Thus  exhibited,  it  is  sharper  than  the  blade  of  the  polemic 
and  clearer  and  stronger  than  the  statement  of  the  best-con- 
structed creeds. 


THE  SURPRISES  OF  GRACE. 

The  Scriptures  furnish  some  instances  of  remarkable 
goodness  and  piety  existing  under  circumstances  where  we 
would  least  expect  to  find  them.  The  case  of  the  Syrophe- 
nician  woman  is  in  point.  Living  in  a  heathen  coast,  her- 
self a  Gentile,  and  probably  without* me  advantages  of  the 
religious  training  of  the  Jews,  she  astonishes  the  Saviour  by 
the  greatness  of  her  faith.  The  centurion  whose  servant 
was  sick  aflTords  another  illustration  of  wonderful  faith 
where  none  would  be  likely  to  look  for  it.  A  pagan  by 
birth  and  education,  but  by  the  chances  of  his  profession 
thrown  in  contact  with  the  Jews  and  their  religion,  he  rises 
above  all  in  the  grasp  and  simplicity  of  his  trust  in  Christ 


2S(i  The  Editor-Bishop. 


The  apostles,  and  others  who  enjoyed  the  most  intimate  per- 
sonal converse  with  Jesus,  and  who  had  been  thoroughly  in- 
structed in  the  doctrines  and  worship  of  the  Old  Testament, 
Avere  inferior  to  this  soldier  in  their  faith.  Up  to  that 
time — howsoever  it  might  have  been  later — Christ  had  "  not 
found  so  great  faith ;  no,  not  in  Israel."  Extraordinary 
eminence  is  given  to  this  Roman  soldier  by  the  Saviour's 
words. 

A  kindred  truth  is  brought  out  in  the  healing  of  the  ten 
lopers,  where  the  only  one  who  returned  to  thank  their  ben- 
efactor was  a  Samaritan.  He  was  the  last  one  of  whom 
such  a  return  could  have  been  expected.  If  any  were  de- 
linquent, this  was  the  likeliest  to  be  wanting  in  gratitude, 
as  men  usually  judge.  The  evangelist's  brief  touch  is  a 
master-stroke,  bringing  out  the  striking  feature  of  the  scene 
with  almost  startling  effect — "And  he  Avas  a  Samaritan." 
In  that  inimitable  parable,  given  in  answer  to  the  question. 
Who  is  my  neighbor?  the  priest  and  the  Levite,  of  whom 
Ave  have  a  right  to  expect  the  most  enlarged  benevolence, 
arc  altogether  wanting  in  compassion,  Avhile  the  Samaritan 
alone  fulfills  the  commandment  of  loA'e  to  our  neighbor. 
In  the  parables  of  the  prodigal  son  and  of  the  Pharisee  and 
publican  there  is  the  same  exhibition  of  good  in  contrast 
Avith  those  Avhosc  circumstances  Avere  more  favorable  but 
Avhose  conduct  Avas  not  in  keeping  with  their  privileges  or 
profession. 

Instances  of  contrition  and  repentance — such  as  that  of 
the  Avoman  Avho  Avashed  the  Saviour's  feet  with  her  tears  and 
Aviped  them  Avith  the  hairs  of  her  head,  and  such  as  that  of 
Zaccheus  the  publican,  Avho  came  down  and  received  his 
Lord  joyfully — are  in  the  same  line  of  illustration.  The 
thief  on  the  cross  has  been  the  subject  of  meditation  and 
study  throughout  the  gospel  ages,  and  his  repentance  and 
faith  arc  more  wonderful  and  instructive  because  exhibited 


Christian  Graces.  237 

in  such  close  connection  with  crime  and  its  punishment. 
Of  all  the  hardened  and  deriding  spectators  of  the  Saviour's 
crucifixion,  only  this  malefactor  was  moved  to  repentance ; 
and  only  the  centurion  who  commanded  and  those  who 
were  watching  with  him  were  constrained  to  confess,  "  Truly 
this  was  the  Son  of  God." 

The  conversion  of  Cornelius  was  every  way  remarkable, 
but  the  chief  surprise  in  his  case  is  that  a  man  in  his  call- 
ing— an  eminent  military  character,  whose  life  had  been 
sjx?nt  in  camps  and  courts — should  be  found  so  devout  and 
spiritual  before  the  gospel  was  preached  to  him.  In  form 
and  ])rofession  he  was  neither  a  Jew  nor  a  Christian ;  bub 
still  he  was  a  man  of  prayer,  and  doubtless  accepted  with 
God.  Of  all  the  people  in  Philippi  we  should  scarcely  have 
picked  out  the  jailer  as  the  most  hopeful  subject  of  conver- 
sion. His  business  was  calculated  to  harden  his  nature, 
and  his  associations,  except  during  that  one  memorable 
night,  must  have  been  unfavorable  in  the  extreme.  His 
contemplated  suicide  in  the  moments  of  greatest  consterna- 
tion shows  that  at  that  time  he  was  in  the  depth  of  pagan 
darkness  and  ignorance.  He  passes,  however,  from  this  con- 
dition of  sheer  heathenism  to  that  of  Christian  assurance 
and  faith  in  the  space  of  a  few  hours.  The  conversion  of 
St.  Paul  might  be  enlarged  upon  in  this  connection.  It 
Avas  a  surprise  to  Jews  and  Christians  alike.  He  was  the 
last  man  of  that  generation  that  either  would  have  thought 
of  as  likely  to  be  changed  in  his  course.  There  were  mi- 
raculous causes  in  his  awakening;  but,  with  these  fully  con- 
sidered, the  conversion  of  Paul  stands  as  a  marvel  that  hu- 
man calculations  would  never  have  anticipated. 

History  and  observation  supply  us  with  illustrations  in 
accord  with  those  which  we  find  in  the  Bible.  Such  deep 
piety  and  pure  faith  as  were  exhibited  in  the  Dairyman's 
Diuighter,  and  conversions  like  those  of  Tliomas  Oliver,  Colo- 


238  The  Edjtor-Bishop 


nel  Gardner,  and  John  Newton,  are  of  like  import.  Sin- 
cere and  humble  piety  like  that  of  Cornelius  has  doubtless 
illustrations  in  the  heathen  lands  of  to-day.  There  is  ex- 
alted virtue,  remarkable  faith,  and  a  deep  insight  and  expe- 
rience of  divine  things  far  removed  from  the  ordinary  track 
of  privileges  and  opportunities.  Here  and  there  they  are 
brought  to  light  as  revelations  of  Avhat  God  is  doing  apart 
from  the  more  favorable  conditions  of  salvation,  and  as  ex- 
hibitions of  his  abounding  mercy  and  his  power  to  save  to 
the  uttermost.  The  hopefulness  of  Christian  charity  should 
be  stimulated  healthfully  by  these  instances,  which  are  only 
astonishing  because  they  seem  to  set  at  naught  the  circum- 
stances and  methods  which  have  come  to  be  regarded  as  es- 
sential to  the  attainment  of  salvation.  There  is  danger  of 
limiting  the  ample  breadth  of  infinite  goodness  and  of 
bounding  our  faith  in  the  power  of  the  gospel  by  lines  alto- 
gether too  narrow.  Every  now  and  then  we  are  rebuked 
by  the  discovery  of  gems  where  no  intimation  of  their  ex- 
istence was  seen,  A  mine  of  riches  opens  where  no  one 
had  thought  of  looking  for  the  precious  metal.  There  are 
springs  of  water  gushing  up  in  the  desert,  and  the  wilder- 
ness is  gladdened  and  beautified  by  a  bloom  and  fragrance 
altogether  in  contrast  with  the  gloomy  solitudes  which  they 
adorn. 

It  may  often  happen  that  those  wliom  we  have  regarded 
as  nearest  the  kingdom  of  God  arc  most  distant,  and  that 
those  whom  we  have  marked  as  most  hopeless  are  already 
about  to  yield  to  the  drawings  of  the  Spirit.  The  final  day 
will  doubtless  reveal  many  surprises  of  grace.  "What  we 
have  found  in  the  sacred  page,  and  in  the  imperfect  field  of 
observation  and  experience,  will  prove  to  have  been  only 
the  tokens  and  predictions  of  that  which  awaits  us  in  the 
world  of  light.  The  wonders  of  grace  will  then  be  uncov- 
ered, and  we  shall  witness  the  fruits  of  redemption  as  they 


Christian  .Graces.  239 

have  been  gathered  from  the  entire  scope  of  human  history 
and  from  all  the  varied  conditions  and  circumstances  of  hu- 
man experience.  The  surprises  of  grace  here  are  as  the 
shells  on  the  shore,  while  those  of  glory  will  be  as  the  un- 
measured wealth  in  the  ocean's  depths. 


THE  BELIEVER'S  POSSESSIONS. 


"ALL  THINGS  ARE  YOURS." 

GOD  himself  is  the  supreme  propi-ietor.  "  For  whom  are 
all  things."  Aud  Christ  is  the  supreme  possessor,  since 
all  things  were  made  by  him  and  for  him.  Coming  into 
the  relation  of  sons  through  faith  in  Christ,  Christians  are 
heirs  of  God  and  joint  heirs  with  Christ.  In  Christ  and 
with  him  they  are  the  heirs  and  virtual  possessors  of  all 
things.  In  this  relation  to  Christ,  and  in  union  with  him, 
all  things  are  for  their  sakes.  The  end  of  the  creation  of 
the  world  is  in  them,  and  they  are  the  vindication  of  the 
divine  wisdom  and  goodness.  The  present  world  is  theirs 
for  probationary  uses.  "All  things  are  yours."  They  may 
own  not  a  rood  of  ground,  and  be  without  a  place  to  lay 
their  heads,  and  yet  all  things  are  theirs,  and  made  to  con- 
tribute to  their  good. 

The  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth  as  well  as  heaven,  be- 
cause the  earth  is  the  scene  of  their  redemption  and  of  their 
adoption,  and  the  theater  of  their  triumph  over  sin.  They 
have  put  it  to  its  highest  and  only  true  use  in  the  pursuit 
of  spiritual  objects.  While  others  have  seemingly  possessed 
and  enjoyed  it,  the  righteous  alone  have  gathered  from  it 
the  imj^erishable  treasures.  Those  who  gain  the  whole 
world  and  lose  their  own  souls  are  in  no  true  sense  the  pos- 
sessors of  the  world.  Nothing  is  theirs.  Even  in  this  pres- 
ent time  they  have,  in  losing  themselves,  lost  all.  They 
have  failed  to  get  any  good  out  of  the  world,  and  have,  in 
effect,  forfeited  every  thing.  Christians  are  heirs  of  all 
things,  and  they  are  also  the  real  possessors  of  "  things 
(240) 


The  Believer's  Possessions.  241 

present."  Through  Christ  they  possess  the  present  world 
even  as  they  are  heirs  of  the  world  to  come.  All  things  in 
it  work  together  for  their  good.  Every  thing  is  made  trilv 
utary  to  their  welfare,  whether  the  world  or  life  or  death, 
or  things  present  or  things  to  come.  The  title  is  in  their 
sonship,  and  the  soul  that  cries  "Abba,  Father !  "  can  claim 
the  universe  as  its  own. 

Neither  this  world  nor  any  other  can  be  really  enjoyed 
out  of  Christ.  Beyond  mere  animal  gratifications,  what  is 
tiiere  possible  to  atheism?  What  room  is  there  for  the 
appreciation  of  the  beautiful  and  the  sublime  where  there 
is  no  intelligence  in  creation?  The  irreligious  possess  the 
earth  in  much  the  same  sense  in  which  the  herds  possess  the 
fields  in  which  they  graze.  They  see  no  God  in  the  bloom- 
ing herbage  beneath  their  feet,  and  the  blue  vault  above 
them  has  for  them  no  suggestion  of  a  far-off  and  cloudless 
heaven.  The  earth  yields  them  food,  raiment,  and  sensual 
pleasure,  but  nothing  more. 

It  is  only  through  Christ  that  the  natiiral  world  can  be 
seen  as  a  thing  of  beauty,  because  it  is  through  him  that 
we  discern  the  hand  that  formed  and  preserves  all.  Sin 
excludes  from  the  enjoyment  of  heaven,  but  does  it  not  also 
shut  us  out  from  the  highest  and  most  satisfying  enjoyment 
of  the  world  ?  The  Christian  has  all  things,  because  through 
Christ  he  is  capable  of  grasping  and  enjoying  them.  A 
feeling  of  devotion  and  a  sense  of  God  are  essential  ele- 
ments in  the  beautiful  and  the  sublime.  AVithout  these, 
flowers  and  landscapes  and  mountains  are  beyond  the  touch 
and  reach  of  the  soul.  The  imperial  quality  in  all  things 
is  the  spiritual,  and  this  can  be  detected  and  enjoyed  only 
by  the  spiritual. 

The  domain  of  science,  to  a  large  extent,  seems  to  have 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  unbelievei's.  But  what  have  they 
in  it?  They  gather  facts  and  pursue  their  labors  to  sustain 
16 


242  The  Editou-Bishop. 


a  godless  tlieory.  There  is,  as  they  profess,  no  desigu,  no 
omnipotent  personal  will,  no  trace  of  God  in  the  rocks  or 
Ihe  stars,  or  in  the  history  of  living  things.  Who  are  the 
Inic  possessors  of  science,  the  devout  Faradays  or  the  sneer- 
ing and  skeptical  Huxleys?  And  who  will,  in  the  end,  be 
I  he  owners  of  this  great  wealth  of  discovery  and  scientific 
toil?  Doubtless  Christianity  will  gather  and  appropriate  all, 
and  all  will  ultimately  contribute  to  the  overthrow  of  infi- 
delity. To  the  blind  workers  there  is  nothing  but  chance 
or  the  evolutions  of  a  stupid  and  material  force;  but  to  the 
devout  spirit  the  Infinite  God,  in  all  his  wisdom,  power,  and 
goodness,  shines.  Atheists  may  push  forward  the  exploita- 
tions of  science,  but  the  men  of  faith  are  the  possessors  of  it. 

Modern  inventions  seem  to  be  mainly  in  the  interest  of 
commerce  and  the  accumulation  of  wealth.  The  railroad, 
the  steam-ship,  and  the  telegraph  are  recognized  Jincident- 
ally  as  aiding  in  the  spread  of  the  gospel.  But,  in  the  or- 
der of  Providence,  this  is  their  chief  purpose.  The  builders 
and  the  owners  oi  them,  the  great  railway  kings  of  the  day, 
and  the  merchant  princes,  have  not  thought  of  Christ. 
But  God  is  in  these  enterprises,  and  they  are  doing  his  work 
in  bringing  about  the  universal  brotherhood  of  humanity 
and  in  spreading  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  to  the  utter- 
most parts.  Is  there  any  thing  in  the  line  of  science,  ex- 
ploration, travel,  or  invention  that  Christianity  does  not 
fall  heir  to?  They  are  carried  on  mostly  for  mere  tempo- 
ral purposes;  they  are  often  under  a  godless  control;  they 
belong  to  capitalists,  who  care  nothing  for  God.  And  yet 
in  their  best  and  highest  uses  they  belong  to  God's  people; 
they  are  the  instruments  of  a  world's  salvation. 

It  is  also  true  that  the  money  of  the  world  is  largely  in 
the  hands  of  the  ungodly.  But  the  believer  alone  owns 
money;  with  sinners  the  money  owns  them.  Those  that 
consecrate  their  wealth  to  Christ  are  the  only  ones  who  get 


The  Believer's  Possessions.  243 

the  worth  of  their  money  out  of  it  even  in  this  life.  The 
blessedness  of  giving  it  and  using  it  for  God  makes  it  truly 
the  possession  of  the  believer.  The  Christian  would  at 
once  turn  all  the  streams  of  gold  into  the  channels  of  re- 
ligious and  benevolent  enterprise;  but,  indirectly,  do  they 
not  tend  that  way  ?  and  at  length  will  they  not  flow  into 
the  Lord's  treasury? 

The  wealth  of  the  world,  and  its  science,  and  its  Avonder- 
ful  inventions,  await  the  converting  power  of  the  gospel, 
and  believers  will  possess  them  all  some  day.  The  heaven- 
ly inheritance  is  among  the  "all  things,"  and  this  earth, 
purified  by  fire,  may  be  the  scene  of  future  glory,  but  here 
and  now  "all  things  are  yours."  In  this  world  believers 
are  "  as  having  nothing,  and  yet  possessing  all  things." 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  LORD. 

The  knowledge  of  God  is  spiritual, .  and  only  reached 
through  the  spiritual  nature.  He  remains  "  the  unknown 
God"  until  manifested  to  the  faith.  We  could  not  know 
him  without  a  material  universe  to  exhibit  his  power, 
and  without  a  special  revelation  through  his  word.  And 
yet  with  these  volumes  open  before  us  we  may  fail  to  know 
him.  He  is  a  hidden  God  until  the  soul  is  supernaturally 
opened  to  behold  him.  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  this 
something  which  neither  nature  nor  the  word  of  God  dis- 
closes until  the  fear  of  God  is  planted  in  the  heart.  All  is 
mystery  and  uncertainty,  perplexity  and  doubt,  until  the 
disposition  to  know  and  obey  God  is  formed  within.  It 
was  true  in  David's  time,  and  also  in  ours,  that  the  secret 
of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that  fear  him.  They  have  a  pro- 
found insight  of  the  divine  nature  and  a  clear  and  satis- 
factory conception  of  the  divine  character.  The  glory  of 
God  is  given  to  them  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.     God 


244  The  Editor-Bishop. 

shines  into  their  hearts,  because  their  hearts  are  opened  to 
the  heavenly  rays. 

It  is  a  secret  of  grace,  the  hidden  mystery,  that  baffles 
all  science,  and  pours  contempt  upon  human  wisdom.  The 
wonderful  thirds  of  God  are  unfolded  to  the  devout  spirit. 
To  him  the  very  heart  of  the  Infinite  Father  is  revealed. 
He  feels  God  in  the  assurance  of  sins  forgiven,  in  love  en- 
throned, in  the  spirit  of  adoption.  The  plan  of  redemp- 
tion is  practically  clear  to  the  soul  that  has  come  to  Christ 
in  penitence  and  in  humble  trust.  The  secret  of  the  Lord 
has  been  unfolded  to  him  as  it  never  can  be  to  him  who 
seeks  to  find  out  God  by  scientific  research  or  by  merely 
intellectual  methods.  It  is  with  them  that  fear  him,  be- 
cause this  is  the  condition  of  the  manifestation.  "  God  is 
a  Spirit,  and  they  that  worship  him  must  worship  him  in 
spirit  and  in  truth."  In  no  other  way  than  through  the 
spiritual  in  us  can  we  attain  to  a  true  and  spiritual  worship. 
God  knows  the  proud  afar  off.  He  moves  farther  and  far- 
ther away  from  those  who  would  be  independent  of  his 
help.  Their  searchings,  without  prayer  and  without  hu- 
mility, will  carry  them  farther  away  from  the  object  they 
are  seeking. 

The  world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God.  It  never  has  made 
any  advances  in  this  direction  by  philosophy  or  by  science. 
Nature  yields  up  some  of  her  secrets  to  the  investigator. 
The  laws  of  matter  are  to  some  extent  defined,  and  the  proc- 
esses of  life  and  growth  are  grasped.  But  the  secret  of 
the  Lord,  his  personality,  holiness,  and  love,  the  essential 
nature  of  him  who  is  in  all,  and  lies  back  of  all  phenomena, 
is  undiscovered.  This  is  disclosed  to  him  who  fears  God. 
The  God-fearing,  praying  man,  in  conversation  and  in  the 
revelations  of  the  Spirit,  is  the  only  one  who  possesses  this 
wonderful  secret.  It  cannot  be  extorted  by  reason,  it  con- 
not  be  attained  by  metaphysical  studies,  it  cannot  be  reached 


The  Believer's  Possessioxs.  245 

llirough  geological  or  astronomical  •Rploratiou.  The  name 
of  God  is  secret,  the  sublime  and  awful  secret  of  Jehovah, 
but  it  is  known  to  them  that  fear  him.  What  the  wise  and 
learned  have  never  been  able  to  wrest  from  the  domain  of 
nature  is  discovered  in  joy  and  peace,  and  assurance  to  de- 
vout and  prayerful  souls. 

There  is  to  most  men  a  great  mystery  connected  with  the 
Divine  Providence;  so  much  so  that  they  are  disposed  to 
question  the  presence  and  reign  of  God  in  the  world.  The 
hand  of  God  is  to  them  not  manifest.  We  doubt  if  it  ever 
is,  except  to  them  that  fear  God.  To  them  it  is  almost  as 
an  open  vision.  The  ])rinciples  of  providential  government 
are  explained  in  connection  with  human  ])robation,  the  ex- 
istence of  sin,  and  the  deed  of  discipline.  To  them  it  is  not 
difficult  to  believe  that  God  cares  for  the  sparrows,  and  that 
he  cires  still  more  for  his  children.  The  pure  in  heart  sec 
God  in  providence,  in  the  pages  of  history,  in  the  rise  and 
fall  of  empires,  and  in  the  individual  experience.  In  God's 
dealings  with  us  as  individuals  there  is  an  aspect  of  mys- 
tery. To  the  superficial  view  his  ways  are  inscrutable,  and 
under  the  first  shock  of  some  great  sorrow  wc  are  often  in 
great  darkness. 

What  God's  purposes  are  as  to  ourselves  we  may  not  whol- 
Jy  know.  They  are  good  as  interpreted  by  the  loving  heart. 
In  a  general  way  the  great  secret  of  Providence  is  clear. 
"  For  we  know  that  all  things  work  together  for  good  to 
them  that  love  God."  But,  besides  this,  the  devout  believ- 
er will  often  see  in  himself  the  reason  of  the  chastisements 
sent  upon  him.  It  is  as  a  personal  secret  between  him  and 
his  God.  Paul  understood  the  meaning  of  the  thorn  in  the 
flesh.  In  this  thing  the  secret  of  the  Lord  was  with  him. 
It  was  a  preventive  discipline  to  keep  him  humble,  and  that 
the  power  of  Christ  might  be  manifested  in  his  infirmities. 
The  raeanins:  of  affliction  is  one  of  the  secrets  of  the  Lord 


246  The  Editor-Bishop. 

which  is  revealed  to  tl«pi  that  fear  him.  The  general  gra- 
cious purpose  is  clear,  and  often  also  the  particular  reason 
of  the  stroke.  To  the  irreligious,  in  times  of  trouble,  all  is 
confusion  and  d-arkness.  They  do  not  see  God  in  their  per- 
sonal affairs,  and  in  their  troubles  they  do  not  understand 
him.  They  doubt  of  God,  or  they  rebel  against  him.  They 
do  not  penetrate  the  secret — the  wise  and  merciful  end,  and 
the  rebuke  of  their  sin  and  worldliness. 

The  nearness  and  intimacy  of  the  believing  soul  with 
God,  the  spiritual  communion  and  close  friendship  enjoyed, 
are  connected  with  the  unfolding  of  God  to  the  spiritually- 
minded.  God  does  not  keep  himself  aloof  from  them,  he 
does  not  hide  himself.  Rather  he  takes  them  into  a  sacred 
intimacy  and  nearness  to  himself  He  tells  them  his  name, 
clears  up  the  mysteries  of  grace,  and  breaks  the  seal  from 
the  book  of  Providence.  He  causes  his  face  to  shine  upon 
them,  opens  to  them  the  deepest  secrets  of  his  nature,  and 
shielding  them  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock,  and,  passing  by  them 
in  fearful  grandeur,  proclaims  himself,  and  makes  all  his 
goodness  to  pass  before  them.  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is 
the  desire  and  the  experience  of  them  that  fear  God,  Ja- 
cob, Moses,  David,  Paul,  and  John  had  the  strong  desire, 
and  rejoiced  in  the  inward  revelation.  To  them,  and  to  all 
spiritual  souls,  God  is  not  an  object  of  conjecture  or  of 
speculative  thought,  but  as  dwelling  in  them  and  guiding 
them.  The  mystery  of  all  mysteries,  the  hidden  source 
of  all  things,  shines  as  a  Father's  love  and  presence  in  their 
hearts. 


CHRIST'S  SYMPATHY. 
Goodness  may  not  always  be  sympathetic.    We  can  well 
believe  in  the  love  of  God  when  we  have  so  many  evidences 
of  it  in  the  provisions  of  salvation.    There  is  tenderness,  pity, 


The  Believer's  Possessions.  247 

compassion  in  the  Infinite  FatheiiJ;oward  his  erring  creat- 
ures. God  alone  perfectly  comprehends  the  consequeucfs 
of  guilt  and  sin  in  its  future  and  eternal  developu)ents.  Nei- 
ther men  nor  angels  can  completely  fathom  the  depths  of 
that  wretchedness  which  the  lost  soul  is  doomed  to  experi- 
ence. God  alone  knows  the  sufferings  endured  in  this  Avorld. 
Ko  human  capacity  can  go  over  the  terrible  array  in  detail, 
much  less  can  it  gather  up  and  grasp  the  whole  at  a  single 
glance;  and  yet,  with  his  knowledge  of  sin  and  suffering, 
and  with  his  love  for  the  fallen  and  wretched  passing  all 
human  love,  we  can  scarcely  conceive  of  God  as  "touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities." 

In  angelic  natures  the  im|K)ssibility  of  this  fellowship  in 
suffering  is  apparent.  They  are  moved  by  a  benevolence 
only  less  boundless  than  that  of  God  himself.  They  can 
truly  rejoice  over  the  repentance  of  one  sinner  and  minister 
tenderly  to  the  heirs  of  salvation,  but  they  can  have  no 
proper  feeling  of  such  weakness  as  springs  fVom  the  fiesh  in 
its  companionship  with  a  corrupt  and  fallen  nature.  Tlieir 
pinions  of  light  know  nothing  of  weariness,  and  their  spirits 
of  flame  have  never  been  darkened  and  saddened  by  the 
shadow  of  sin.  In  the  wilderness  and  in  Gethsemane  they 
could  do  scarcely  more  than  gather  upon  the  outskirts  of 
those  terrible  passages  in  the  Redeemer's  conflict  with  the 
powers  of  darkness.  However  near  they  may  come  to  us 
in  their  vigilance  and  solicitude,  there  is  still  a  vast  dis- 
tance betw'een  them  and  our  human  nature.  The  general 
import  is  clear  enough.  The  unseen  and  spiritual  enemies 
are  more  manifest  to  them  than  to  us,  and  the  tremendous 
interests  involved  are  measured  as  no  human  intelligence 
can  take  them  in.  But  there  are  elements  in  the  struggle 
which  baffle  their  efforts  to  fully  conceive.  So  far  as  they 
are  like  ourselves,  they  are  capable  of  sympathy;  but  be- 
yond this,  and  as  we  enter  the  conditions  of  our  depraved 


248  Thk  Editor-Bisuop. 

and  bodily  natures,  they  can  be  little  more  than  anxious 
spectators  of  a  scene  which  there  is  nothing  in  themselves  to 
explain.  »^ 

The  capacity  of  man  to  feel  for  his  fellows  is  limited  by 
his  very  imperfections.  Without  goodness  and  benevolence, 
indifference  prevails.  AVhere  the  moral  condition  is  right, 
there  is  \?anting  complete  perception  of  the  suffering  in 
any  given  case,  and  of  those  variations  and  modifying  cir- 
cumstances which  may  exist.  It  is  a  difficulty  with  the 
best  of  benevolent  natures  to  adequately  feel  for  othere. 
There  are  points  in  <vhich  experiences  touch,  but  there  are 
also  many  in  which  they  are  far  removed.  It  is  hard  for 
the  strong  to  enter  into  the  trials  of  the  weak,  for  the  well 
to  appreciate  the  temper  of  the  sick,  for  the  learned  to  have 
perfect  patience  with  the  ignorant  and  illiterate,  and  for 
great  and  highly  enoHwed  minds  to  deal  kindly  and  consid- 
erately with  those  of  low  and  medium  gifts.  Both  selfish- 
ness and  incapacity  are  in  the  way  of  complete  sympathy. 
To  feel  all  and  to  feel  perfectly  would  crush.  Only  a  super- 
human organization  could  bear  a  weight  and  strain  like 
this.  And  yet  human  sympathy,  in  its  best  manifestations, 
is  the  most  beautiful,  helpful,  and  healing  of  virtues.  "  One 
touch  of  nature  "  thus  refined  and  purified  "makes  the  whole 
world  kin."  However  helpful  our  sympathy  may  be,  it  is 
often  helpless.  What  it  inspires  us  to  undertake  is  alto- 
gether beyond  our  performance.  In  the  physical  pain  of 
others,  in  their  mental  anguish,  and  in  their  spiritual  per- 
plexities, we  may  be  profoundly  moved,  and  wrought  up 
to  the  highest  tension  of  desire  to  assume  the  burden  or 
in  any  way  to  relieve  the  sufferer;  but  we  are  absolutely 
helpless. 

The  sympathy  of  Christ  stands  out  in  relief  as  something 
different  from  the  love  and  compassion  of  God,  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  benevolence  of  angels,  and  as  every 


The  Believjsb's  Possessions.  249 

way  more  perfect  and  effective  than  our  purest  and  deepest 
fellowship  in  human  suffering.  He  knows,  as  he  only  can 
know,  the  anatomy  of  the  body  and  the  sout,  and  how  every 
fiber  and  faculty  of  this  wondrous  compound  is  swayed  and 
tortured  under  the  force  of  pain  and  anguish.  Without 
sin,  he  approached  so  nearly  its  conditions  as  to^  meet  the 
most  powerful  assaults  of  temptation.  He  was  tempted 
"like  as  we  are."  The  diabolical,  the  fleshly,  the  worldly 
were  encountered  in  their  fullest  strength,  £iri|||i'^  his  soul 
passed  through  every  strait  of  anguish  known  to  us  in  the 
conflict  with  sin.  All  the  lines  of  a  perfect  sympathy  meet 
in  him  as  in  no  other  being  in  the  universe.  Knowledge, 
feeling,  and  helpfulness  arc  all  complete  in  him. 

And  it  is  a  comforting  assurance  which  we  have  that  in 
his  heavenly  exaltation  the  Saviour  re^Jgius  his  sympathetic 
character.  He  is  at  the  right-hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high 
in  his  humanity ;  and  it  is  there,  and  now,  and  ever  that  he 
is  "touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities."  It  is  as 
the  ascended  and  glorified  Christ  that  it  is  written  of  him: 
"  For  in  that  he  himself  hath  suffered  being  tempted,  he  is 
able  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted."  He  was  qualified 
by  the  assumption  of  our  nature,  and  by  the  temptations 
and  sufferings  of  his  life  on  earth,  to  be  in  heaven  "a  friend 
that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother."  Enthroned  as  he  is 
above  all,  and  invested  with  the  purple  of  everlasting  and 
univereal  empire,  and  by  the  mightiness  and  splendors  of 
his  regal  state  almost  lifted  beyond  the  gaze  of  the  seraphim, 
he  is  still  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.  The 
sorrows  and  trials  of  the  humblest  saint,  the  death-throes  of 
the  obscurest  believer,  penetrate  through  all  these  ranks  and 
atmospheres  of  dazzling  radiance,  and  touch  the  Redeemer's 
heart.  If  we  cannot  apprehend  God,  if  we  wearily  ponder 
and  speculate  where  we  find  no  ground  to  tread  on,  we  may 
rest  in  this  blessrd  assurance.     We  mav  feel  how  inade- 


2.30  The  EDiTou-liisiior. 

quate,  how  utterly  powerless,  is  earthly  tenderness  to  sus- 
tain, and  at  the  same  time  turn  to  the  loving  and  ever-liv- 
ing Christ.  No  suTsraissive  sufferer,  no  earnest  seeker,  is 
without  his  sympathy.  Especially  in  the  great  battle  of 
believers  for  salvation  does  Christ  claim  his  rightful  rela- 
tionship as  brother  and  near  of  kin.  From  his  throne  he 
is  not  ashamed  to  call  them  brethren,  and  in  all  their  war- 
fare he  cheers "  them  by  his  presence  and  sustains  them  to 
the  end. 


MELODY  IN  THE  HEART. 

The  heart  may  be  out  of  tune  even  more  than  a  cabinet 
organ,  even  more  than  the  voice.  There  is  in  it  the  discord 
of  conflicting  passions.  The  life  is  not  in  accord  with  the 
conscience,  and  there  is  not  harmony  in  our  relations  with 
others.  The  greatest  of  all  discords  is  between  the  soul  and 
God.  The  cares  of  the  world  fill  us,  and  there  is  no  spirit 
of  praise.  "  How  shall  we  sing  the  Lord's  song  in  a  strange 
land?"  How,  indeed,  if  we  are  far  from  God  and  in  a  state 
of  estrangement  from  the  comfort  of  the  Holy  Spirit?  It 
is  well  to  attend  to  the  instrument,  to  cultivate  the  voice, 
and  to  master  the  science  of  music.  Both  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament and  in  the  New  we  are  commanded  to  sing.  Sing- 
ing stands  upon  the  same  authority  as  praying.  One  may 
be  more  vitally  important  than  the  other,  but  by  precept 
and  by  example  both  are  enjoined.  Everybody  can  pray, 
even  vocally  and  in  public,  but  some  may  not  be  able  to 
sing.  Some!  With  proper  convictions  in  reference  to  it 
as  a  duty,  the  most  can.  Conscientious  study  and  practice 
will  enable  nearly  all  to  assist  in  congregational  singing  and 
also  to  hum  a  tune  in  private  when  the  spirit  of  praise  and 
rejoicing  is  in  us.  But  we  can,  without  exception,  make 
melody  in  the  heart  unto  the  Lord.     This  dei)ends  largely 


The  Believer's  Possessions.  2.")1 

on  the  spiritual  state,  and  the  condition  is  very  much  under 
our  own  control.  A  dumb  person  may  sing,  and  this  is  one 
of  the  miracles,  literal  as  well  as  mefaphorical,  which  an 
ancient  seer  predicted. 

Paul  and  Silas  in  prison,  with  their  feet  in  the  cruel  stocks 
and  at  midnight,  sung  praises  to  God.  The  song  may  have 
been  from  the  Psalms,  or  it  may  have  been  improvised  from 
the  fullness  of  hearts  filled  with  the  love  of  Jesus.  We 
can  hardly  think  of  Paul  as  having  much  melody  of  voice. 
He  probably  carried  the  bass  Avith  a  jar  and  a  crack,  while 
►Silas  with  more  sweetness  and  strength  sung  the  air,  sending 
the  music  through  all  the  corridors  and  cells  of  the  jail,  so 
that  the  prisoners  heard.  "What  was  in  the  heart  could  not 
be  repressed,  and  tiie  singing  under  such  circumstances  fell 
upon  the  ears  of  the  criminals  as  something  bordering  upon 
the  supernatural.  It  may  have  had  as  much  to  do  with 
the  awakening  of  the  jailer  as  did  the  earthquake.  Mar- 
tyrs have  sung  on  their  way  to  execution  and  in  the  flames. 
Dying  saints  have  breathed  their  life  out  in  song.  The  mel- 
ody of  the  heart  rises  superior  to  outward  conditions,  and 
reaches  its  sweetest  and  purest  notes  amidst  the  severest 
trials  of  faifli  and  fortitude. 

We  do  not  from  hence  conclude  that  the  inward  melody 
always  finds  utterance — only  that  it  often  does  in  spite  of 
the  most  untoward  circumstances,  and  that  it  may  and 
should  exist  in  all  Christian  hearts.  The  heart  as  inevitably 
sings  .under  the  breathings  of  the  Spirit  as  do  the  .^Eolian 
strings  when  swept  by  the  evening  breeze.  The  chords  are 
tuned  by  the  divine  hand,  and  they  respond  to  the  touchiugs 
of  the  infinite  love. 

While  we  are  enjoined  to  sing  with  grace  in  the  heart 
and  to  sing  with  the  spirit  and  the  understanding,  may  we 
not  comfort  those  who  cannot  utter  themselves  musically  by 
supposing  that  some  of  the  most  jjcrfect  psalms  and  hymns 


232  The  Editor-Bishop. 

and  spiritual  songs  have  vibrated  in  believing  souls  without 
ever  having  reached  the  grosser  birth  of  vocal  expression  ? 
Is  not  this  the  perfect  melody,  and  the  only  perfect?  Words 
are  inadequate;  voice  and  ear  and  science  are  necessarily 
defective,  but  the  voiceless  music  of  a  pure  heart  may  be 
without  a  flaw.  Angels  may  catch  some  of  its  strains,  but 
only  the  ear  of  God  takes  in  every  note.  It  is  said  that  we 
must  sing  here  if  we  expect  to  sing  in  heaven.  This  opens 
a  poor  prospect  to  those  of  us  who  never  can  turn  a  tune, 
and  almost  forces  u^  to  withdraw  our  approbation  from 
those  Avho  are  silent  because  they  respect  the  feelings  of 
their  fellow-worshipers.  But  is  not  the  probationary  as- 
pect of  music  chiefly  that  of  the  heart?  However  well  we 
may  sing,  we  shall  not  be  the  fitter  for  heaven  on  that  ac- 
count unless  we  have  learned  to  sing  witii  grace  and  to 
make  melody  in  the  heart.  Better  be  in  heaven  without  a 
tongue  than  to  be  there  with  no  capacity  for  this  higher 
music  of  the  soul.  As  God  regards  the  matter,  there  is 
more  real  melody  in  a  silent  Quaker  meeting  than  in  the 
professional  quartet  of  a  fashionable  church.  In  the 
heavenly  atmosphere  our  merely  vocal  attainments  here 
would  be  the  veriest  discord.  The  medium  of  vibrations 
there  may  be  such  that  the  heart  diftuses  melody  as  flowers 
give  out  fragrance.  What  the  bird,  with  frenzied  effort, 
tries  to  sing,  tlic  flower  is.  The  song  of  heaven  is  the  mu- 
sic of  holy  hearts;  and  may  it  not  be  that  the  song  that, 
for  lack  of  suitable  organs,  has  been  shut  up  through  all 
this  mortal  life  will  burst  forth  as  a  prisoner  from  his  long 
and  weary  confinement?  or,  as  the  sweet  odors  spring  forth 
from  the  broken  vase,  so  may  it  not  be  with  the  soul  when 
the  earthly  tabernacle  is  dissolved?  At  any  rate,  those  who 
can  sing  must  not  be  too  severe  on  those  who  cannot.  In 
this,  as  in  other  things,  the  first  may  be  last  and  the  last 
first. 


The  Believer's  Possessions.  253 

As  a  matter  of  religion  and  of  worship,  singing  must  be 
with  grace  in  the  heart.  It  is  a  dead  and  offensive  thing 
unless  the  spirit  go  along  with  the  understanding.  In  our 
singing  we  must  make  melody  in  our  hearts  unto  the  Lord. 
The  main  thing  is  the  state  of  the  heart.  We  need  better 
singing  than  we  have,  and  nine-tenths  of  religious  people 
are  culpable  because  of  their  personal  indifterence  on  the 
subject;  but  probably  the  greater  and  almost  universal 
guilt  is  that  our  hearts  are  not  filled  with  praise.  It  is  a 
I)art  of  worship  both  as  sacred  and  as  spiritual  as  prayer, 
and  yet  many  have  come  to  regard  it  as  an  artistic  enter- 
tainment, belonging  more  to  the  region  of  aesthetics  than  to 
the  domain  of  piety  and  devotion.  The  well-tuned  heart  is 
an  important  preparation  for  the  service  of  song,  giving  it 
that  unction  which  it  needs  quite  as  much  as  the  prayer  or 
the  sermon ;  and  we  believe  that  where  there  is  melody  in 
the  heart  the  worthiest  expression  Avill  be  studied,  sought, 
and  attained.  Praise  in  itself  is  comely,  and  it  will  seek  to 
array  itself  in  comely  utterance.  The  spiritual  soul  will 
love  spiritual  songs,  and  the  pure  heart  will  hate  dis- 
cordant notes  as  it  hates  unhallowed  desire  and  unholy 
tempers.  The  heart  and  the  voice,  let  them  be  cultivated 
together.  They  will  act  and  react,  and  the  harmonies  of 
the  outward  expression  and  of  the  inner  feeling  Avill  be 
blended  in  a  worship  that  is  adorned  with  the  beauty  of 
holiness. 


DIVINE  COMPANIONSHIP. 

There  is  a  personal  intimacy  with  God  which  is  consist- 
ent with  the  deepest  reverence.  Enoch,  Abraham,  and 
Moses  in  their  career  exhibit  this  habitual  companionship. 
They  adored,  worshiped,  and  were  filled  with  awe,  and  yet 
they  walked  with  God.    To  them  there  were  theophanies — 


2>4  The  Editor-Bishop. 

extraordinary  manifestations  to  the  senses — but  apart  from 
these  was  the  habitual  consciousness  of  God  as  ever  about 
them.  They  communed  with  him  in  spirit  and  in  thought. 
They  endured  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible.  God  was  not 
only  near  to  them,  but  they  were  near  to  God.  There  was 
companionship.  They  were  the  friends  of  God,  and  enjoyed 
the  privileges  of  a  personal  intimacy  with  the  Infinite  Je- 
hovah. This  was  the  most  considerable  fact  in  their  his- 
tory, and  the  one  thing  most  descriptive  of  their  character 
and  lives.  These  names  point  us  to  the  higher  altitudes  of 
faith  and  godliness,  but  they  also  exhibit  an  experience  com- 
mon to  all  devout  souls. 

There  is  a  type  of  religion  which  occupies  itself  exclu- 
sively with  the  worship  of  a  far-off  God.  It  is  not  wanting 
in  reverence,  in  fear,  in  the  sense  of  divine  authority,  and 
in  sublime  conceptions  of  the  attributes  of  the  living  God; 
but  God  is  distant,  awful,  and  even  appalling.  To  such 
Avorshipers  the  thought  of  walking  with  God  as  a  child  with 
his  father,  or  as  a  friend  with  a  friend,  would  be  rejected  as 
impertinent  and  ii'reverent. 

Still  further  from  the  temper  and  ideas  of  natural  men — 
the  unbelieving  world — is  this  association  of  the  human  with 
the  infinite  and  ineffable  Spirit.  What  a  vast  chasm  yawns 
between  Enoch  and  Abraham  and  Mr.  Spencer's  conception 
of  the  unknowable  First  Cause!  To  the  ordinary  worldly- 
minded,  whether  philosophical  or  thoughtless  and  sensual, 
God  is  the  remotest  and  most  unreal  of  all  objects.  To 
Moses  he  was  the  nearest  and  most  real.  To  him  the  ma- 
terial world  was  a  mere  shadow,  transitory  and  changeful. 
Personality,  spirit,  intelligence,  were  to  him  the  substance 
and  basis  of  all  things. 

We  do  not  know  that  these  ancient  worthies  speculated 
much,  if  at  all,  whether  knowledge  is  possible  with  man,  or 
■whether  God  could  be  known.    They  simply  sat  upon  the 


The  Believer's  Possessions.  2o5 

sun-crowned  heights,  ever  dwelling  near  the  sky,  and  were 
filled  with  the  light  of  God.  God  came  to  them  through 
the  open  avenues  of  their  spiritual  nature,  and  they  came 
to  God  through  that  faith  which  is  "the  evidence  of  things 
not  seen."  Walking  with  God,  they  did  liot  walk  with  u 
shadow ;  the  friends  of  God,  they  were  not  the  companions 
of  a  vapor;  seeing  him  who  is  invisible,  they  saw  God  more 
clearly  than  the  eye  beholds  the  sun.  God  somehow  took 
these  spiritual  souls  up  into  himself,  permitting  them  even 
to  share  his  counsels,  and  manifesting  himself  by  an  in- 
ward glory  which  surpassed  the  splendors  of  the  outward 
world. 

In  Christ  this  divine  companionship  is  distinctly  and  viv- 
idly realized.  Walking  with  God  "as  dear  children"  is 
one  of  Paul's  declarations.  Union  with  Christ  brings  us  to 
the  experience.  In  him  God  is  brought  inexpressibly  near, 
and  through  him  we  reach  that  companionship  with  God 
which  dispels  the  last 'shadow  of  doubt.  The  far-off  "  are 
made  nigli  by  the  blood  of  Christ,"  and  God  is  declared  to 
us  by  "  the  only-begotten  Son  which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father." 

Always  the  privilege  and  the  characteristic  of  God's  peo- 
ple, this  divine  companionship  in  the  gospel  stands  out  in 
peculiar  brightness.  As  Enoch,  Abraham,  and  Moses  ex- 
hibit it  in  the  dispensation  of  types  and  shadows,  John,  the 
eagle-eyed  and  eagle-pinioned,  is  its  mf)st  conspicuous  repre- 
sentative in  the  latest  manifestation  of  truth.  "And  truly 
our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father,  and  with  his  Son  Jesus 
Christ."  It  is  a  companionship  of  light.  This  light  broke 
upon  the  path  of  the  most  spiritual  of  the  patriarchs;  its 
flashes  gleamed  along  their  toilsome  pilgrimage.  But  under 
the  gospel  and  in  the  heart  of  John  it  swells  into  the 
Avarmth  and  brightness  of  the  vernal  day.  As  his  pen  tolls 
the  story,  Avalking  with  God  is  walking  in  the  light,  because 


25G  The  Editor-Bishoi'. 

"God  is  light,  and  in  him  is  no  darkness  at  all."  This  is 
the  substance  of  all :  "  But  if  we  walk  in  the  light,  as  he 
is  in  the  light,  we  have  fellowship  one  with  another,  and 
the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  Son,  cleanseth  us  from  ali 
sin." 


PRAYER. 


LEARNING  TO  PRAY. 

THE  request  of  the  disciples,  "  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray,  as 
John  also  taught  his  disciples,"  was  evidently  suggested 
by  the  Saviour's  prayer  which  they  had  just  heard.  It  was 
as  he  was  praying  in  a  certain  place,  when  he  ceased,  that 
they  asked  to  be  taught.  His  prayer  on  that  occasion  seems 
to  have  convinced  them  that  they  were  ignorant  of  this 
most  solemn  and  important  duty.  They  were  not  ignorant 
of  what  John  had  enjoined ;  the  forms  prescribed  by  Jew- 
ish doctoi-s  and  teachei's  were  familiar  to  them.  More  than 
their  acquaintance  with  these  was  their  knowledge  of  the 
prayers  recorded  in  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures.  AVe 
might  suppose  that  the  disciples  had  enough  instruction  on 
the  subject,  with  the  prophets  and  the  Psalms  before  them, 
with  some  forms  of  prayer,  public  and  private,  which  they 
had  probably  used  from  their  childhood,  and  having  already 
been  with  the  Master  for  two  or  three  years.  Then  if  this 
was  a  second  delivery  of  t'he  Lord's  Prayer,  they  had  heard 
prayer  explained  and  enforced,  and  the  form  given  in  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  perhaps  not  more  than  twelve  months 
before. 

What  was  there  in  this  particular  prayer  of  .Tesus  that 
apparently  for  the  first  time  awakened  in  them  the  convic- 
tion that  as  yet  they  knew  not  how  to  pray?  When  we 
have  heard  a  truly  great  and  admirable  sermon  we  have 
gone  away  with  the  feeling  tiuit  we  could  not  preach  at  all ; 
and  we  have  had  similar  humiliating  confessions  to  make 
about  prayer  when  we  have  been  led  at  the  throne  of  grace 
17  (257) 


258  The  Editor-Bishop. 

by  some  one  specially  anointed  and  qualified  for  this  most 
spiritual  exercise.  Something  akin  to  this  must  have  been 
the  thoughts  of  those  "who  were  with  Christ  and  heard  timt 
memorable  prayer.  There  was  nothing  in  David  or  Isaiah 
that  excited  in  them  the  sense  of  their  ignorance  and  desti- 
tution, or  that  aroused  in  them  aspirations  for  the  excellent 
gift.  All  their  lives  they  had  been  praying,  and  praying 
well,  as  they  supposed ;  but  there  was  something  in  this 
prayer  of  Christ  that  revealed  the  feebleness  and  }K>verty 
of  their  souls,  and  their  utter  lack  of  that  grasp  of  faith 
and  communion  Avith  God  which  Christ  exhibited. 

There  is  no  mention  anywhere  that  the  disciples  asked 
their  Master  to  teach  them  how  to  preach.  This  he  did  by 
example  and  precept,  looking  forward  to  the  gift  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  as  the  most  essential  and  complete  endowment 
for  his  work.  But  we  do  not  find  that  the  feeling  of  insuf- 
ficiency ever  so  came  upon  them  during  the  ministry  of 
Christ  that  they  straightly  and  urgently  asked  to  be  taught 
to  preach.  With  the  Saviour's  incomparable  discourses 
fresh  in  their  minds,  they  might  have  questioned  whether 
they  or  any  other  could  ever  fittingly  proclaim  the  gospel ; 
but  this  duty  was  as  yet  at  a  distance,  and  until  after  the 
Saviour's  resurrection  they  probably  thought  little  about 
it.  At  any  rate,  the  thing  they  asked  for  was  how  to  pray. 
However  poorly  qualified  to  preach,  they  felt  themselves 
still  worse  off*  in  the  duty  of  prayer;  and  they  may  have 
thought  that  if  they  only  could  pray  aright  the  preaching 
would  be  assured  in  its  own  time,  and  when  the  occasion 
came. 

Besides  the  sense  of  spiritual  want  and  the  need  of  a 
stronger  faith,  there  was  the  conviction  that  this  new  dis- 
pensation demanded  an  order  of  prayer  in  accord  with  its 
superior  light  and  privileges.  The  prayers  of  the  Old 
Testament,  to  be  used  now,  must  be  vivified  and  illumi- 


PpAYF-r.  2o9 

nated  by  the  spirit  of  the  New.  Compare  the  prayera  of 
Christ  aud  Paul  with  those  of  Moses  and  David  and  the 
later  prophets,  and  the  difference  is  apparent.  Praying  un- 
der the  gospel  and  in  the  dispensation  of  the  Spirit  is  as 
superior  as  the  conditions  of  grace  and  opportunity  under 
which  we  live.  On  this  occasion  the  Saviour  gave  the 
prayer  previously  enjoined,  and  with  amplifications  and 
illustrations.  The  friend  and  the  three  loaves,  the  son  that 
asked  for  bread,  the  condition  of  asking,  seeking,  knocking, 
and  then  that  promise  of  promises,  "  How  much  more  shall 
your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that 
ask  him?"  are  in  the  sequel.  This  is  prayer  in  the  new 
dispensation.  God's  fatherhood  is  prominent,  the  sonship 
of  believers  is  embraced,  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit  em- 
phasized. The  disciples,  from  the  teachings  and  still  more 
from  the  prayer  of  Jesus,  saw  that  their  praying  must  be  ad- 
justed to  the  new  and  happier  conditions  of  the  perfect  law 
of  liberty,  and  that  their  love,  faith,  and  spiritual  life  must 
find  expression  in  forms  adapted  to  the  clearness  and  com- 
pleteness of  the  gospel.  John's  twilight  prayers  would  not 
answer,  and  the  inspired  supplications  of  the  Old  Testament 
must  receive  the  interpretations  of  the  new  and  more  ex- 
alted Christian  life.  In  substance  the  request  was:  Lord, 
teach  us  to  pray  as  thy  disciples — as  Christians. 

There  is  no  literal  repetition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  in  the 
•Gospel  of  John,  nor  in  the  Epistles,  but  we  can  sec — in  the 
writings  of  Paul  especially — how  the  nature  and  spirit  of 
Christian  prayer  had  been  learned.  The  letter  of  Chris's 
teaching  was  completed  and  vitalized  by  the  Holy  Spirit. 
The  Epistles  abound  in  examples  of  prayer,  and  are  abun- 
dant in  precept,  and  the  Spirit's  office  is  emphatically  rec- 
ognized. We  are  to  pray  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  his  aid 
is  specially  declared:  "  Likewise  the  Spirit  also  helpeth  our 
infirmities;  for  wc  know  not  what  we  should  pray  for  as  we 


2G0  The  Editor-Bishop. 

ought;  but  the  Spirit  itself  maketh  intercession  for  us  with 
groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered." 

Prayer  is  something  to  be  learned.  The  request  of  the 
disciples  should  be  that  of  all  who  are  sincerely  bent  on 
serving  their  Lord.  The  formula  of  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
repeated  from  infancy,  does  not  meet  the  requirement.  The 
fluency  and  ease  of  extempore  prayer  may  amount  to  a 
singular  gift,  and  the  petitions,  framed  in  secret  as  a  relig- 
ious habit,  may  be  continually  offered,  and  we  may  not 
know  how  to  pray.  We  can  teach  prayers  to  our  children, 
but  God  must  teach  them  to  pray.  It  is  to  be  learned  of 
Christ;  his  word  and  Spirit  must  guide  us.  True  Christian 
prayer  that  looks  to  a  finished  atonement — to  a  risen  and 
interceding  Saviour  and  to  the  Spirit  poured  out,  that  em- 
braces the  fatherhood  of  God  and  aspires  to  adoption,  that 
sinks  into  perfect  submission  to  the  divine  will  and  rejoices 
in  the  divine  fellowship — must  be  taught  us  by  God  himself. 

And  when  we  think  of  the  power  of  prayer — that  it  is,  aft- 
er all,  the  supreme  instrument — how  essential  that  it  should 
be  learned !  Every  other  aspect  of  the  art  of  doing  goixl 
is  subordinate  to  this,  and  yet  it  is  of  that  of  which  we  are 
most  ignorant.  And  this  ignorance  is  not  always  the  first 
to  be  felt.  We  may  not  know  how  to  preach,  how  to  train 
our  children,  how  to  lead  our  friends  to  Christ,  but  do  we 
suspect  that  our  most  lamentable  defect  is  in  not  knowing 
how  to  pray?  The  simplest  thing  in  the  world,  yet  the 
most  difficult.  Something  that  seminaries  cannot  impart,  an 
ast  that  ai'changels  cannot  help  us  to  attain,  the  very  lofti- 
est reach  of  wisdom  and  grace.     Lord,  teach  us  to  pray. 


CHRIST'S  EXAMPLE  IN  PRAYER. 

The  force  and  authority  of  the  Saviour's  example  in 
prayer  are  deserving  of  special  consideration.     He  is  our 


Prayer.  261 

pattern  in  holy  living.  A  close  imitation  is  necessary  in 
reference  to  the  tempers  and  conduct  in  general.  •  The  true 
following  of  Christ  largely  consists  in  building  upon  his 
perfect  model,  and  in  seeking  the  mind  that  was  in  him. 
We  are  to  learn  of  him  as  the  "  meek  and  lowly  in  heart." 
The  believer  is  to  walk  "  even  as  he  walked."  In  this,  as 
in  other  respects,  we  are  to  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
His  love  is  to  be  the  ideal  of  ours,  and  his  self-denial  and 
submission  are  to  be  the  aim  of  his  disciples.  Likeness  to 
him  in  spirit  and  conduct  is  the  great  aim  and  achievement 
of  the  Christian  life.  The  Saviour's  actions  were  shaped 
designedly  with  this  purpose.  He  is  always  the  great  Teach- 
er, whether  speaking  or  acting,  living  or  dying,  working 
miracles  or  discoursing  in  parables. 

His  precepts  and  commands  in  reference  to  prayer  are 
explicit  and  full,  and  his  illustrations  of  it  are  luminous 
and  inimitable.  He  twice  delivered  that  summary  of  all 
prayer  known  as  "the  Lord's  Prayer"  by  way  of  eminence. 
He  enjoins  and  reestablishes  secret  prayer  in  its  truth  and 
purity.  He  declares  the  character  of  it  as  the  condition 
of  the  highest  blessings  of  the  kingdom,  affirming  that 
"every  one  that  asketh  receiveth,  and  he  that  seeketh 
findeth,  and  to  him  that  knocketh  it  shall  be  opened." 
The  power  of  persevering  and  importunate  supplication  is 
illustrated  in  the  case  of  the  Syrophenician  woman,  and 
in  the  parable  of  the  unjust  judge.  Prayer  and  fasting  are 
connected  and  enjoined  for  special  ends,  as  the  casting  out 
of  certain  kinds  of  evil  spirits;  and  certain  eminent  sub- 
jects of  prayer  are  proposed,  as  the  sending  out  of  •la- 
borers into  the  gospel  field  and  as  a  safeguard  against 
temptation. 

But  he  who  so  emphatically  commanded  and  illustrated 
this  most  vital  duty  prayed  himself  We  do  not  now  refer  to 
such  occasions  as  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  the  agony  in  Geth- 


262  The  Editor-Bishop. 

semane,  and  the  petition  for  his  murderers  on  the  cross,  but 
to  those  incidental  glimpses  of  a  praying  Saviour  which 
occur  in  the  ordinary  progress  of  his  ministry.  We  pause 
over  a  passage  like  this,  which  immediately  precedes  the 
calling  of  the  twelve  apostles:  "And  it  came  to  pass  in 
those  days  that  he  went  out  into  a  mountain  to  pray,  and 
continued  all  night  in  prayer  to  God."  The  connection 
suggests  that  this  season  of  prayer  was  in  some  measure 
related  to  the  choice  of  the  apostles ;  but  beyond  this  it  lets 
us  into  the  devotional  habit  and  life  of  Jesus.  It  was  secret, 
it  was  prolonged,  it  was  importunate.  The  soul  of  the 
Redeemer  was  there  drawn  out  in  earnest  supplication  and 
absorbed  in  divine  communion.  After  the  feeding  of  the 
iive  thousand  and  the  dismissal  of  the  disciples  and  the 
multitude,  the  narrative  proceeds  to  say :  "And  when  he 
had  sent  them  away,  he  departed  into  a  mountain  to  pray." 
As  in  the  other  instance  the  entire  night  was  employed, 
in  this  the  most  of  a  day  seems  to  have  been  consumed. 
The  wonderful  miracle  was  followe<l  by  a  sea.son  of  prayer. 
The  Saviour  withdraws  from  the  world,  sends  away  even 
his  most  intimate  followers,  and  seeks  a  phxce  of  solitude 
where  he  may  conclude  the  day  in  this  blessed  and  delight- 
ful exercise.  Here  was  much  apparent  painstaking  and 
trouble  to  secure  the  conditions  of  secret  and  undisturbed 
communion  Avith  the  Father.  The  transfiguration  was  ush- 
'ci'ed  in  by  prayer,  and  opens  out  of  it  as  the  flower  burets 
from  its  bud.  On  this  occasion  the  favored  three  were 
with  or  near  him,  witnesses  rather  than  parties  to  the  sol- 
emn exercise.  "  He  took  Peter,  John,  and  James,  and  went 
up  into  a  mountain  to  pray."  We  might  infer  that  this 
had  been  the  Saviour's  custom,  sometimes  going  alone,  at 
other  times  permitting  the  presence  of  some  or  of  all  whom 
he  had  specially  called  to  proclaim  the  gospel.  The  power 
of  prayer  was  here  displayed  in  its  most  wonderful  and  glo- 


Prayer.  263 

rious  effects,  at  the  same  time  that  the  sublime  and  express- 
ive transaction  brings  out  in  bold  relief  a  habit  that  i)er- 
vaded  the  Saviour's  life. 

We  are  scarcely  permitted  to  conjecture  what  were  the 
subjects  of  prayer  which  occupied  the  mind  of  Christ  dur- 
ing these  long  and  solitary  hours.  That  sublimest  of  all 
inspired  scriptures,  the  seventeenth  chapter  of  John,  may, 
however,  inj|)art  some  conception  of  the  scope  and  grand- 
eur, as  well  as  the  indescribable  pathos  and  love  of  those 
prayers  which  were  uttered  upon  the  lonely  mountain-top. 
Whether  the  apostle's  language  refers  exclusively  to  Geth- 
semane  we  do  not  know,  when  he  says :  "  Who  in  the  days 
of  his  flesh,  when  he  had  offered  up  i)rayers  and  suppli- 
cations with  strong  crying  and  tears  unto  him  that  was 
able  to  save  him  from  death,  and  was  heard  in  that  he 
feared."  These  seasons  of  retirement  were  doubtless  marked 
by  sore  temptation,  by  agony  of  soul,  and  by  the  greatest 
triumphs  and  sweetest  consolations.  The  Redeemer  could 
not  achieve  his  work  without  prayer.  He  prayed  because 
he  needed  to  pray,  and  because  he  fully  assumed  our  nat- 
ure, and  in  all  things  was  "  made  like  unto  his  brethren." 

We  dwell,  however,  upon  the  fact  as  an  example  to  us, 
and  insist  upon  this  particular  application.  It  is  for  this, 
doubtless,  in  a  large  measure,  that  the  circumstance  has 
such  explicit  statement  in  the  record.  It  is  to  enforce  upon 
all  the  preeminent  necessity  of  prayer;  that  it  is  the  very 
life  of  the  soul,  and  the  most  characteristic  and  distinctive 
of  the  Christian's  duties.  It  is  a  sufficient  warrant  for  it, 
and  an  adequate  solution  of  all  supposed  difficulties  con- 
nected with  it,  that  Christ  prayed.  He  gave  a  practical 
exhibition  of  his  well-pronounced  precepts  upon  the  sub- 
ject. If  our  lives  are  conformed  to  his,  they  must  be  lives 
of  prayer,  of  habitual  supplication,  and  patient  waiting 
upon  God.     He  was  our  example  herein,  and  the  close  and 


264  The  Editor-Bishop. 

devoted  imitator  will  be  careful  to  follow  the  Master's  foot- 
prints in  this  regard.  Let  the  praying  Saviour  rebuke  us 
and  condemn  us,  and  send  us  with  more  frequency  and 
with  greater  boldness  "to  the  throne  of  grace."  Let  this 
single  feature  of  the  perfect  life  imbue  us  with  the  purpose 
and  desire  to  be  more  Christ-like  in  prayer. 


PRAYER  AND  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT. 

The  Holy  Spirit  is  one  of  the  objects  of  prayer.  "  How 
much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  them  that  ask  him?"  Thus  the  Saviour  puts  the  matter, 
making  prayer  the  condition  upon  which  the  most  compre- 
hensive gift  is  bestowed.  The  Spirit  is  to  be  asked  for  di- 
rectly, and  all  the  promises  of  his  bestowal,  as  the  Sancti- 
fier  and  Comforter,  are  doubtless  subject  to  this  qualification. 
David,  in  his  penitential  Psalm,  deprecates  the  departure 
of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  prays  with  alarming  earnestness, 
"Take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me;"  and  again,  in  con- 
scious guilt  and  weakness,  "  Uphold  me  with  thy  free  Spir- 
it." The  very  character  of  the  Holy  Ghost  as  a  gift,  as 
promised,  and  to  be  sent,  implies  this  condition  of  prayer. 
There  are  certain  operations  of  the  Spirit  in  awakening  and 
conviction  which  take  place  in  the  unconverted  before 
prayer  is  possible ;  but  for  the  penitent  and  the  converted, 
for  all  sincere  and  humble  seekers,  the  Spirit  is  certainly  to 
be  asked  for.  The  guilty  but  penitent  backslider  by  prayer 
may  arrest  his  departure  from  the  soul,  and  experience  his 
restoring  and  healing  power.  The  faithful  Christian  may 
obtain  larger  manifestations  of  the  Spirit  in  his  work  in 
the  heart  by  devoutly  seeking  for  them. 

So  dependent  are  Ave  upon  the  Spirit  for  every  grace,  and 
so  manifold  are  his  offices  and  operations  in  the  work  of 
salvation,  it  is  not  strange  that  he  is  set  before  us  as  an  object 


Pkayer.  2({i> 

of  prayer.  It  is  possible,  however,  that  believers  do  not  ask 
for  hiin  as  directly  and  as  importunately  as  they  should. 
It  may  often  happen  that  the  Spirit  is  grieved  by  the  care- 
less and  comparatively  indifferent  -way  in  which  he  is  men- 
tioned or  thought  of  in  their  praying.  A  thousand  things 
are  in  the  mind,  and  many  of  them  asked  for  before  him, 
while  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  should  be  the  burden  of  desire 
and  supplication.  This  is  above  all  the  richest  heritage  of 
a  loving  heart — the  boon  which  Paul  had  in  his  mind  Avhen 
he  declared  the  import  of  Isaiah's  Avonderful  strain:  "  Eys 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the 
heart  of  man,  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them 
that  love  him.  But  God  hath  revealed  them  unto  us  by  bin 
Spirit."  To  ol)taiu  a  spiritual  apprehension  and  experience 
of  the  deep  things  of  God,  the  Holy  Spirit  must  be  made 
the  habitual  desire  and  burden  of  prayer.  All  sincere  ai?d 
honest  souls  have  reason  to  ponder  this  subject.  They  can- 
not afford  to  ignore  the  promised  gift  and  its  condition. 
Such  a  test  of  prayer  as  this  God  has  made  himself.  Let 
the  seeker,  troubled  with  doubts  and  pressed  by  the  con- 
flicts of  inward  temptation  and  conviction,  try  it.  It  is 
precisely  what  the  dark  and  troubled  soul  needs,  and  God 
has  promised  as  a  Father  to  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them 
that  ask  him. 

The  Holy  Spirit  is  intimately  connected  with  prayer  in 
another  sense  as  the  qualification  essential  to  its  exercise. 
Hence,  wchavethese  suggestive  scriptures:  "  Praying  always 
with  all  prayer  and  supplication  in  spirit,"  and  "praying  in 
the  Holy  Ghost."  Besides  the  letter  of  revelation  and  the 
.objects  for  which  we  are  warranted  to  pray,  there  is  a  gra- 
cious preparation  which  the  Spirit  supplies.  When  we 
consider  the  coldness  and  formality,  and  the  dullness  and 
inconstancy  to  Avhich  even  .secret  prayer  is  liable,  we  can 
comprehend  how  much  the  Spirit  is  needed  to  quicken  de- 


266  The  Editor-Bishop. 

sire  and  to  strengthen  faith.  Praying  in  the  Holy  Ghost 
is  something  different  from  praying  for  him,  and  implies 
that  the  heart  is  filled  and  guided  by  him.  It  is  prayer 
united  with  communion,  and  with  love  shed  abroad,  and 
with  such  hungering  and  thirsting  after  righteousness  as 
only  the  spiritual  nature  feels.  It  is  not  the  prayer  of  a 
sinner  seeking  pardon,  but  rather  of  a  saint  of  maturest 
experience  struggling  after  higher  and  grander  blessings. 
Prayer  is  often  earthly  and  selfish — it  is  on  a  level  with 
the  sensual  and  sordid  soul  which  utters  it.  There  may  be 
a  willfulness  in  it,  or  a  narrowness,  a  querulous  and  dicta- 
torial spirit.  Praying  in  the  Holy  Ghost  is  eminently  spir- 
itual, submissive,  and  humble.  Especially  in  intercession 
this  is  the  essential  quality,  because  it  secures  holiness,  char- 
ity, and  faith.  There  is  a  nearness  to  God  which  moves  the 
arm  of  Omnipotence,  and  it  is  in  answer  to  such  prayer  that 
God  is  delighted  to  send  down  his  richest  blessings.  Pray- 
ing in  the  Spirit  thus  distinguishes  the  true  prayer  of  the 
believers  from  all  that  is  merely  formal  and  from  all  that  is 
actuated  by  low  and  unworthy  motives. 

Still  another  relation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  prayer  is  that 
of  helpfulness  in  the  Christian's  trials  and  conflicts.  "  Like- 
wise the  Spirit  also  helpeth  our  infirmities;  for  we  know  not 
what  we  should  pray  for  as  we  ought;  but  the  Spirit  itself 
maketh  intercession  for  us  with  groaniugs  which  cannot  be 
uttered."  Here  the  office  of  the  Spirit  is  to  help  our  in- 
firmities, our  ignorance  of  what  is  best,  our  impatience  and 
distrust  in  affliction,  and  to  inspire  submission  and  confi- 
dence. In  the  perplexing  dispensation  of  Providence  it  is 
natural  to  fret  under  the  yoke  of  trial,  and  to  choose  for 
ourselves  the  path  of  deliverance.  The  intercession  which 
the  Spirit  makes  is  within  the  troubled  soul,  and  its  end  is 
to  bring  about  a  right  spirit — a  submission  which  Job  framed 
into  such  words  as  these:  "Though  he  slav  me,  vet  will  I 


Praykr.  267 

trust  in  him;"  and  which  our  great  Father  exhibited  in 
the  pathos  of  Gethsemane :  "  O  my  Father,  if  this  cup  may 
not  pass  away  from  me,  except  I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done." 
The  Spirit's  help  is  to  work  in  us  this  patience  and  subjec- 
tion to  the  will  of  God,  to  raise  and  purify  the  affections, 
and  so  to  inspire  desires  which  accord  with  our  highest 
good. 

None  but  those  who  have  passed  through  the  severest 
ordeals  of  affliction,  and  have  wrestled  successfully  with 
their  own  infirmities  of  ignorance  and  pride,  can  altogether 
comprehend  these  unutterable  groanings.  It  is  with  an  en- 
larged application,  however,  that  we  may  dwell  upon  the 
assurance  that  the  Spirit  helps  our  infirmities  in  prayer. 
If  given  up  to  his  guidance,  and  humbly  seeking  his  aid, 
the  Christian  will  be  strengthened  and  directed.  His  heart 
will  go  out  after  right  objects,  he  will  rise  above  every 
thing  groveling  and  sensual,  and  he  will  thirst  for  the  liv- 
ing God.  His  understanding  will  be  enlightened,  his  faith 
will  be  purified  and  strengthened,  and  he  will  walk  with 
God.  With  these  relations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  prayer,  it 
is  evident  that  there  is  no  other  duty  or  privilege  which 
brings  us  into  so  intimate  contact  with  the  most  awful  and 
most  mysterious  workings  of  God.  It  is  something  so  spir- 
itual, so  entirely  interpenetrated  and  surrounded  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  that  its  nature  and  efficacy  belong  alone  to  the 
domain  of  Christian  consciousness.  It  is  the  profoundest 
proof  and  expression  of  the  supernatural  and  spiritual  in 
religion. 


PRAYER  ENDED. 

In  the  conclusion  of  that  grand  Messianic  Psalm  wherein 
Christ  and  his  kingdom  are  portrayed  with  such  wonderful 
beauty  and  power,  the  author  almost  startles  us  with  the 


2G8  The  Ei>itor-Bij5Iiop. 

. —  »■ 

declaration  that  "the  prayers  of  David,  the  son  of  Jesse, 
are  ended."  It  may  be  that  in  his  mind  the  sum  of  all  had 
been  said  in  this  rich  and  devout  composition,  and  that 
nothing  was  left  to  be  asked  for.  Or  possibly  the  aged  king 
was  consciously  near  the  end  of  life,  and  that  the  time  of 
prayer  with  him  was  over.  In  this  last  resi)ect  the  end 
comes  to  all  when,  with  all  other  privileges,  labors,  and  op- 
portunities, prayer  is  laid  aside  forever.  Whatever  may  be 
the  benefits  to  ourselves,  and  however  availing  in  bringing 
down  blessings  upon  others,  death  seals  the  lips  of  supplica- 
tion. The  Christian,  whose  days  and  nights  through  many 
years  have  been  marked  by  "  praying  always  with  all  prayer 
and  supplication,"  and  whose  earnest  wrestlings  with  God 
in  behalf  of  sinners  and  the  Cl\urch  have  known  no  abate- 
ment, is  done  with  prayer  as  soon  as  he  is  done  with  earth. 
The  last  word  uttered,  the  last  sigh  may  be  a  prayer,  but 
it  is  the  last  prayer  of  a  prayful  life  and  of  the  praying 
soul. 

Prayer  is  a  most  important  part  of  the  believer's  work 
on  earth ;  it  belongs  to  his  probationary  duties  and  respon- 
sibilities, and  ceases  with  the  hour  of  his  release  from  the 
affairs  and  activities  of  time.  Praise,  heightened  and  glo- 
rified, will  go  on  endlessly.  Death  cannot  break  it,  nor 
will  there  be  any  pause  when  the  great  transition  passes 
upon  the  redeemed  spirit.  What  other  employments  there 
may  be  in  the  heavenly  world,  there  is  no  warrant  for  the 
supposition  that  intercessions  for  those  who  remain  on  earth 
w  ill  enter  the  glorified  state.  Prayers  may  not  be  answered 
until  long  after  the  saint  that  breathed  them  has  entered 
paradise.  They  are  not  forgotten  before  God,  and  his  an- 
gelic ministers  and  the  ordering  of  his  providence  are  be- 
ing disposed,  and  are  moving  toward  the  gracious  result. 
Gathered  and  garnered  there  is  a  mighty  store  of  power 
and  benedictions  which  shall  be  manifest  some  time.     Like 


Prayer.  2G9 

good  seed  scattered  up  and  down  the  Christian's  earthly 
path,  the  prayers  of  the  righteous  sprout  and  blossom  and 
bear  fruit  long  after  the  grave  closes  upon  those  who  have 
tittered  them.  No  form  of  Christian  work  has  so  great  a 
tenacity  of  life,  and  none  continues  so  long  to  multiply  and 
develop  after  the  workman  is  dead.  But  w^hether  as  a  seed- 
sowing  or  a  reaping,  the  praying  that  we  do  terminates  with 
the  present  life.  This  most  wonderful  gift  and  privilege, 
this  most  powerful  means  of  good  to  the  world,  has  an  end. 
Every  dying  man  can  say  with  truth,  My  prayers  are  end- 
ed. Of  this  as  of  other  things  the  admonition  bears  with 
emphasis:  "Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with 
thy  might;  for  there  is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowl- 
edge, nor  wisdom  in  the  grave  whither  thou  goest."  De- 
vout people  who  realize  their  responsibility  in  reference  to 
active  labor  in  the  cause  of  Christ,  and  who  are  stimulated 
to  giving  and  doing  by  the  shortness  of  life,  do  not  always 
extend  the  application  to  prayer. 

Prayer,  as  to  certain  objects,  is  ended  by  other  circum- 
stances than  that  of  our  own  death.  The  time  comes  when 
those  we  have  prayed  for  are  taken  away.  The  parents  we 
have  been  long  accustomed  to  remember  before  God  are 
gone,  and  the  life-time  habit,  begun  at  the  mother's  knee 
and  cherished  and  strengthened  by  an  intelligent  and  rip- 
ened piety,  is  abruptly  and  sadly  broken  by  the  tidings  of 
sorrow.  We  know  not  which  is  more  sad,  the  thought  that 
they  no  longer  live  to  pray  for  us  or  the  conviction  which 
fishes  upon  us  that  they  have  passed  absolutely  beyond  the 
mention  always  heretofore  given  them  in  our  secret  devo- 
tions. Children  have  the  central  place  in  the  parental 
prayer.  They  are  called  up  by  name  and  personal  form 
when  the  believing  parent  is  closeted  with  God.  From  ear- 
liest infancy  through  childhood,  youth,  and  on  through  ma- 
turer  years,  tliey  are  kept  at  the  mercy -seat.    Natural  affec- 


270  TiiE  Editor-Bishop. 

tion,  deepened  and  ennobled,  and  purified  into  something 
liigher  and  better,  and  the  solemn  sense  of  accountability 
for  the  eternal  welfare  of  those  whom  God  hath  given 
them,  inspire  a  fervor  and  faith  which  reach  their  mighti- 
est and  sublimest  expression  in  the  intercessions  of  believ- 
ing parents.  The  death  of  children,  as  it  touches  this  habit 
and  life  of  prayer,  is  most  deeply  felt.  While  living  they 
may  go  beyond  our  sight,  and  they  may  outgrow  the  tender 
and  sweet  dependence  of  infancy  and  childhood,  but  only 
death  separates  them  from  our  prayers. 

Of  all  relations  and  friendships  we  might  indulge  the 
same  reflections.  Those  for  whose  salvation  we  have  been 
specially  concerned,  those  in  whose  welfare  we  have  become 
greatly  enlisted — whether  neighbors,  associates,  kindred,  or 
friends — for  them  our  'prayer  is  ended  as  they  are  numbered 
with  the  dead.  Their  names  must  be  left  oflT  henceforth 
from  the  catalogue  of  those  for  whom  our  prayers  have 
gone  up.  Their  memory  may  be  precious,  the  form  and 
features  are  clear  and  full,  love  still  clings  to  them,  and 
they  live  in  our  daily  thoughts  and  appear  in  our  nightly 
dreams,  but  they  have  no  more  place  in  our  prayers.  It 
ought  to  quicken  our  earnestness  and  diligence  in  prayer 
when  we  reflect  that  the  objects  of  intercessions,  even  the 
most  precious  and  best  loved,  are  liable  at  any  time  to  be 
removed  from  the  reach  of  our  supplications.  Prayer  may 
not  only  be  ended  by  our  own  death,  but  it  may  be  ended 
as  to  some  of  its  most  cherished  objects  by  the  stroke  which 
bereaves.  Those  whom  God  has  placed  within  the  circle 
of  our  prayers  are  by  his  dispensation  taken  from  us. 

We  doubt  not  these  instances  of  prayer  ended  are  among 
the  most  melancholy  recollections  and  experiences  of  many. 
There  is  a  shade  of  gloom — and  perhaps  an  approach  to 
remorse — growing  out  of  the  half-disguised  conviction  of 
their  own  unfaithfulness.     If  the  dead  could  be  called  back 


Prayer.  271 

to  Lfe,  with  what  fervor  and  agonizing  they  would  pray  for 
them!  There  is  healing  balm  for  the  wound  in  the  con- 
sciousness that  we  were  diligent  and  importunate,  and  especial 
comfort  in  the  assurance  that  our  prayers  were  answered — 
that  when  our  prayer  for  them  ended,  it  had  been  answered 
in  placing  them  where  prayer  is  not  only  impossible,  but 
where  it  is  no  longer  needed. 


MISSIONS. 


LOOSING  FROM  TROAS. 

THERE  are  many  devoted  preachers  who  are  annually 
exercised  about  the  field  which  they  should  enter.  The 
Bishops  usually  allow  a  man  to  choose  his  Conference,  and 
hence  the  question,  Shall  I  transfer,  and  where?  The  only 
truuble  in  the  case  should  be  to  know  the  mind  of  the  Spirit 
in  the  premises,  and  when  that  has  been  reached  to  go  or 
stay.  Before  Paul  and  Silas  came  to  Troas  they  "  were  for- 
bidden of  the  Holy  Ghost  to  preach  the  word  in  Asia." 
Afterward  "they  assayed  to  go  into  Bithynia;  but  the  Spirit 
suffered  them  not."  At  Troas  the  vision  appeared  to  Paul 
in  the  night.  "There  stood  a  man  of  Macedonia,  and 
prayed  him,  saying,  Come  over  into  Macedonia,  and  help 
us."  Gathering  from  this  that  the  Lord  had  called  them 
to  preach  the  gospel  in  Macedonia,  thither  they  went,  to 
preach  to  Lydia  and  others,  to  cast  out  evil  spirits,  and  to 
save  the  Philippian  jailev  and  his  house.  The  case  is  plain 
enough  with  these  devoted  men.  The  Lord  had  a  will  con- 
cerning their  movements,  forbidding  them  to  preach  in  some 
places  and  commanding  their  departure  to  others.  Asia 
was  without  the  gospel  for  the  most  part.  Mysia,  Bithynia, 
and  Troas  were  without  Christ,  but  the  mind  of  the  Spirit 
was  that  they  should  go  to  Macedonia.  God  has  a  mind  in 
the  movement  of  his  ministers  now,  and  this  is  the  point  of 
solicitude. 

Unquestioning  submission  is  the  first  thing  to  be  attained. 
To  get  clear  of  any  willfulness  in  the  matter,  and  to  look 
only  at  the  claims  of  duty,  is  perhaps  the  most  difficult 

(272) 


Missions.  273 

achievement.  How  it  is  to  be  ascertained,  though  some- 
times perplexing,  is  not  so  difficult  as  unconditional  obedi- 
ence to  the  divine  command.  There  are  so  many  merely 
temporal  considerations  involved — grounds  of  personal  pref- 
erence growing  out  of  local  circumstances,  family  ties,  and 
pecuniary  support — that  we  are  apt  to  look  at  these  almost 
exclusively.  The  country  where  men  hope  to  do  best  for 
themselves  is  too  often  the  Macedonia  to  which  they  gravi- 
tate. Their  call  to  preach  is  a  general  one,  and  so  they 
preach.  The  place  may  be  determined  by  other  influences 
than  those  which  moved  them  to  assume  the  obligations  of 
the  sacred  office.  The  vision  which  took  Paul  and  Silas  by 
"  a  straight  course  "  to  Samothracia  and  Philippi  was  a  di- 
vine call  to  preach  in  that  particular  region  rather  than 
anywhere  else.  Neither  salary,  health,  nor  personal  ad- 
vancement had  any  thing  to  do  with  it;  and  when  they  had 
assuredly  gathered  that  the  Lord  had  called  them  tliere, 
they  forthwith  endeavored  to  go,  and  they  went.  They 
loosed  from  Troas  with  no  misgivings,  and  doubtless  with 
the  persuasion  that  he  who  called  them  would  give  them  a 
prosperous  voyage,  and  stand  by  them  in  their  times  of 
trial.  To  be  like-minded  with  them  is  the  true  attitude  of 
the  gospel  minister.  He  is  ready  to  obey  the  heavenly  vis- 
ion, and  to  subordinate  all  other  considerations  to  the  will . 
of  God  concerning  him.  So  he  preaches,  it  is  a  matter  of 
indifference  where.  Paul  would  have  gone  to  Asia;  he 
then  thought  Bithynia  was  a  good  field ;  it  was  desirable  to 
tarry  at  Troas.  But  he  was  mistaken.  Macedonia  was  the 
open  door;  and  of  all  the  places  in  the  world  this  one,  which 
he  had  never  thought  of,  was  that  which  God  had  chosen 
for  him.  Abraham  preached  the  same  lesson  of  obedience 
when  he  went  out  from  his  own  country,  shaping  his  course 
not  by  the  stars  of  heaven  nor  by  the  green  pastures  of 
earth,  but  by  the  guiding  hand  of  Jehovah. 
18 


274  TiiK  KDiToii-BisjUOi'.  . 

When,  however,  we  imagine  we  have  attained  to  complete 
submission,  and  are  ready  to  move  at  the  divine  command, 
there  comes  the  perplexing  question.  How  are  we  to  know 
the  will  of  the  Lord  concerning  us?  Does  the  Holy  Ghost 
forbid,  and  does  he  move  us?  Is  there  any  vision  of  the 
night,  praying  and  saying,  "  Come  over  into  Macedonia,  and 
help  us?"  Doubtless  there  are  indications  nearly  as  plain 
as  those  which  the  apostle  had.  If  the  steps  of  the  good 
man  are  ordered  of  the  I^ord,  the  path  of  the  devoted 
preacher  ought  not  to  be  less  clear.  There  are  many  things 
to  be  taken  into  the  account  in  reaching  the  right  conclu- 
sion, because  the  will  of  God  is  in  accord  with  our  condi- 
tions and  necessities,  and  may  be  intimated  by  the  provi- 
dential adjustments  which  surround  us.  The  men  in  a  full 
and  overrunning  Conference  are  not  called  away  from  it 
necessarily,  and  in  some  instances  a  man  may  be  called 
from  a  destitute  field  to  one  that  is  already  pretty  well  sup- 
plied. The  generally  accepted  idea,  however,  is  probably 
the  true  one — that  the  more  destitute  fields  appeal  to  the 
preacher's  conscience.  To  them  he  ought  to  go  if  he  can ; 
and  if  others  hold  back  who  might  go,  all  the  more  reason 
for  him  to  let  go  the  fastenings  and  set  sail.  But  thjg  loos- 
ing from  Troas  is  a  hard  thing  with  many  upon  whom  the 
impression  is  strong  that  a  distant  Macedonia  requires  their 
labors.  The  breaking  up  of  old  associations,  the  sundering 
of  social  ties,  pecuniary  sacrifices,  and  domestic  interests  in- 
volved, are  calculated  to  deter.  There  are  probable  hard- 
ships to  be  encountered,  a  scant  and  uncertain  support,  and 
the  ordeal  of  a  new  climate  is  to  be  undergone.  Once  in 
Macedonia,  it  is  a  trial  to  stay.  There  are  older  communi- 
ties and  Conferences,  and  richer  and  more  inviting  lands. 
To  have  come  was  the  uttermost  of  eflbrt,  and  not  to  go 
back  is  more  than  many  can  endure. 

Alas  for  us  that  the  grace  to  endure  hardness  as  good  sol- 


Missions.  275 

diers  of  Jesus  Christ  is  so  often  lacking!  In  some  Confer- 
ences there  are  more  men  than  places — there  are  men  in 
the  local  ranks  because  the  itinerant  cohorts  are  full,  and 
there  are  strong  and  experienced  preachers  who  could  be 
spared  without  much  detriment  to  the  work  where  they  are. 
It  is  more  agreeable  every  way  for  them  to  stay ;  but  mean- 
while "  the  regions  beyond  "  are  without  the  gospel,  and  the 
people  are  perishing.  We  may  speak  for  Louisiana,  where 
nearly  half  of  our  parishes  are  almost  without  the  gospel, 
and  in  which  some  large  presiding  elders'  districts  have  not 
more  than  three  or  four  effective  preachers.  In  some  sec- 
tions our  churches  and  parsonages  are  going  to  ruin,  and 
our  flocks  are  being  scattered  and  devoured  for  want  of  pas- 
toral oversight.  This  may  be  true  of  other  destitute  Con- 
ferences in  the  West,  but  we  doubt  whether  any  are  worse 
off  than  Louisiana.  Will  not  the  night  vision  wake  up  a 
host  of  recruits  for  these  needy  and  sorely  suffering  regions? 
Weird  and  solemn  and  beseeching  was  the  appeal  as  it  came 
to  Paul.  Across  the  seas  and  amidst  the  shadows  of  pagan- 
ism there  stood  a  man  of  Macedonia.  Was  it  the  embodi- 
ment of  heathen  ignorance  and  misery  crying  to  Christ's 
ministers  for  deliverance?  or  was  it  Christ  himself  already 
there  and  waiting  for  his  heralds  to  proclaim  life  to  the 
dying? 

In  Louisiana,  in  Arkansas,  in  Montana,  in  California, 
there  stands  a  man  who  identifies  himself  with  all  the  waste 
places,  who  speaks  the  language  of  their  perishing  people, 
^d  calls  upon  his  servants  to  come  to  the  rescue.  There 
he  stands,  the  impersonation  and  representative  of  famish- 
ing and  neglected  souls  thirsting  for  the  waters  of  life  and 
hungry  for  the  bread  of  heaven.  He  who  called  to  Paul 
out  of  the  night  and  across  the  iEgean  calls  to  hundreds 
among  us  to  break  away  from  the  older  Conferences,  to  sur- 
render local  for  itinerant  work,  and  to  yield  to  the  Spirit's 


276  The  Editor-Bishop. 

call  for  a  self-denying  but  glorious  ministry.  Loosing  from 
Troas,  with  a  Hellespont  of  some  sort  to  cross — there  is  the 
rub!  Struggling  and  dying  souls  implore;  the  Man  of  Cal- 
vary prays  us  to  come.  The  needle  is  true  to  the  pole  when 
suspended  upon  a  burnished  point  and  freed  from  perturb- 
ing influences.  So  it  is  with  preachers  in  the  line  of  duty 
if  they  swing  free  and  clear  upon  the  perfectly  polished 
pivot  of  obedience  to  the  divine  will,  and  divest  themselves 
of  the  disturbing  forces  ^vkich  tempt  them  to  swerve  from 
the  path  of  duty.  The  eye  of  love  will  be  clear  to  see,  the 
ear  of  love  will  be  quick  to  hear,  unless  blinded  and  dead- 
ened by  mistaken  views.  Where  there  is  a  Pauline  heroism 
and  an  apostolic  zeal,  the  man  of  Macedonia  will  not  pray 
in  vain  for  help.  Loosing  from  Troas  will  be  an  easy  nmt- 
ter  when  the  spirit  of  burning  fully  imbues  the  ministry, 
and  when  the  Master's  voice  is  heard  sounding  across  the 
waters  and  from  the  dreary  desolations,  "Come  over,  and 
help  us!" 


JONAH  AND  FOREIGN  MISSIONS. 

Jonah's  mission  to  Nineveh  antedates  the  birth  of  Christ 
about  eight  hundred  years.  In  that  age  there  was  on  the 
part  of  the  Jews  little  thought  or  concern  about  the  salva- 
tion of  the  heathen.  The  selfishness  and  exclusiveness  of 
the  elect  people  were  such  that  other  nations  were  regarded 
with  abhorrence  and  enmity  rather  than  compassion.  In 
itself  considered,  the  idea  of  sending  a  missionary  from  tH^ 
banks  of  the  Jordan  to  the  Tigris  would  seem  to  have  been 
something  anomalous.  No  prophet  had  hitherto  been  com- 
missioned for  such  a  purpose.  It  \vas  hard  for  converted 
men  after  the  day  of  Pentecost  to  comprehend  the  new  de- 
parture of  going  abroad  and  preaching  to  the  Gentiles.  It 
is  not  strange  that  the  son  of  Amittai  had  his  misgivings 


Missions.  277" 

when  commanded  to  go  to  the  great  Assyrian  metropolis. 
It  came  to  him  as  a  clap  of  thunder  out  of  a  clear  sky.  Je- 
rusalem was  full  of  wickedness,  the  people  of  the  covenant 
were  themselves  fearfully  given  to  idolatry,  corruption 
abounded  throughout  the  borders  of  Israel.  There  was 
work  enough  at  home,  and  it  looked  like  the  veriest  folly 
to  send  a  missionary  to  a  place  so  distant  and  to  a  nation 
who  needed  repentance  scarcely  more  than  that  where  the 
prophet  lived.  To  the  faithful  qpd  devout  who  constituted 
the  true  Church  of  the  time  it  must  have  been  a  great  sur- 
prise. God's  care  for  them  they  believed.  That  he  should 
raise  up  prophets  for  their  warning  and  instruction  was  rea- 
sonable, but  how  preposterous  that  the  God  of  Israel  should 
show  compassion  to  the  uncircumcised,  and  so  much  com- 
passion as  to  send  a  special  messenger  to  call  the  Ninevites 
to  repentance! 

In  this  matter  Jonah  was  not  of  the  same  mind  with  his 
Master.  He  partook  of  the  religious  exclusiveness  and 
selfishness  of  the  Church  of  the  day,  and  was  imbued  with 
that  benevolent  utilitarianism  which  demands  that  all  shall 
be  done  at  home  before  we  attempt  any  thing  abroad.  The 
sacrifice  of  his  personal  comfort,  the  hardships  of  so  long  a 
journey,  and  the  personal  peril  to  which  he  would  be  ex- 
posed may  have  wrought  upon  his  fears,  and  there  may  have 
been  in  him  something  of  national  prejudice  and  enmity 
toward  those  who  were,  by  prophetical  announcement,  one 
day  to  b6  a  scourge  to  Israel.  If  the  Gentiles  were  to  be 
fftlled  to  repentance  through  him,  Jonah  would  have  pre- 
ferred some  other  field.  But  the  one  comprehensive  key  to 
his  conduct  is  found  in  his  almost  invincible  convictions 
against  the  character  of  his  mission.  He  did  not  believe  in 
foreign  missions,  and  to  the  end  he  was  anxious  that  the  re- 
sult should  vindicate  his  reluctance  to  engage  in  the  work. 
Under  constraint  he  went  to  Nineveh  and  preached  unto  it 


278  The  Editor-Bishop. 

the  preaching  that  God  bid  him,  but  he  would  have  been 
gratified  if  the  wicked  city  had  uot  repented ;  but,  as  the 
penitent  city  was  spared,  he  recalls  what  he  had  pleaded 
before  he  left  his  own  country :  that  God  would  repent  him 
of  the  threatened  evil,  and  that  the  peril  of  the  city  was 
not  such  as  to  require  this  extraordinary  intervention.  Con- 
tradictory and  inconsistent  as  the  prophet  seems  to  be  with 
himself  in  his  expostulations  and  complaints,  there  is 
throughout  this  persistent  and  perveree  opposition  to  carry- 
ing the  message  of  warning  to  a  distant  Gentile  people.  He 
thought  it  better  to  stay  at  home,  and  confine  his  labors  to 
Jerusalem  and  the  coasts  of  Israel. 

As  in  some  sort  anticipatory  of  the  great  commission,  and 
the  world-wide  scope  of  the  gospel  provisions  of  grace,  the 
history  of  Jonah  stood  as  a  monumental  light  until  the  new 
dispensation  came  in,  and  even  now  its  lessons  to  the  Church 
are  impressively  significant.  These  lessons  bear  upon  the 
central  and  absorbing  work  of  the  Church  as  an  organiza- 
tion to  preach  the  preaching  given  to  it  by  Christ  to  the  na- 
tions. Jonah  stands  out  in  the  ancient  times  as  the  type  of 
hardshellism,  f,s  the  representative  of  nearly  every  phase  of 
opposition  to  foreign  missions.  He  illustrates  this  opposi- 
tion not  so  much  as  it  comes  from  the  world  but  as  it  exists 
in  the  Church.  It  is  a  prejudice  and  an  antipathy  which 
pleads  the  state  of  the  people  about  us,  that  questions  the 
peril  of  the  heathen,  and  that  doubts  the  power  of  the  gos- 
pel to  save  them.  Jonah  exhibits  this  opposition  as  mani- 
fested in  the  face  of  the  divine  command  to  go.  "Arise,  go 
to  Nineveh,  that  great  city,  and  cry  against  it;  for  their 
wickedness  is  come  up  before  me;"  and  this  is  not  plainer 
than  the  marching  orders  to  us  as  delivered  by  the  Captain 
of  our  salvation:  "Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the 
gospel  to  every  creature." 

The  grand  import  of  Jonah's  mission  justified  the  strik- 


Missions.  '270 

ing  miracle  by  ^Yhich  his  flight  from  the  presence  of  the 
Lord  was  arrested.  It  remains  as  a  sign,  accommodated  as 
the  type  of  the  burial  and  resurrection  of  Christ,  but,  in  a 
figure,  the  type  of  judgment  upon  our  disobedience  to  the 
divine  command  and  the  gracious  effects  of  that  judgment 
in  the  spiritual  resurrection  of  the  Church  and  its  renewed 
life  of  obedience  and  power  in  proclaiming  salvation  to  all 
nations.  The  Saviour's  reference,  besides  warranting  this 
application,  connects  his  own  resurrection  with  the  cause  of 
missions,  as  the  sign,  the  convincing  miraculous  attestation 
of  our  duty  and  of  our  success.  To  Jonah  and  his  times, 
and  to  Nineveh,  the  sign  was  wonderful  and  convincing  in- 
deed, but  to  us  the  buried  Saviour,  coming  forth  from  the 
grave  as  "the  Prince  of  life,"  is  a  sign  more  powerful  and 
more  inspiring.  The  men  of  Nineveh  are  to  rbe  up  in  judg- 
ment with  this  and  every  generation.  Their  repentance 
ought  to  have  awakened  Israel  when  Jonah  returned,  and 
if  it  did  not  it  condemned  them  and  the  perverse  prophet 
with  them.  They  will  rise  up  in  judgment  against  all  sin- 
ners who  have  the  greater  sign  and  persist  in  their  impeni- 
tence under  the  ministry  of  a  greater  than  Jonah. 

But  will  they  not  rise  up  in  the  judgment  with  us,  and 
condemn  us  for  our  slothfulness  and  unbelief?  Every  in-'' 
stance  of  missionary  success  does  condemn  those  who,  by 
indifference  or  conviction,  fail  in  supporting  the  great  and 
vital  work.  The  men  of  Nineveh  deliver  to  us  their  testi- 
mony across  the  space  of  more  than  twenty-five  centuries, 
and  they  are  waiting  for  us  in  the  judgment;  but  nearer 
and  clearer  is  the  note  of  warning  and  of  awakening  which 
comes  from  the  fields  of  m.odern  missions.  The  souls  already 
plucked  as  brands  from  paganism  prove  that  thousands  and 
millions  more  would  have  been  saved  had  there  been  no 
holding  back,  no  unbelief,  and  no  guilty  indifference  on  the 
part  of  those  to  whom  the  Lord  has  committed  his  goods. 


280  The  Editor-Bisuop. 

THE  APPEAL  OF  MISSIONS. 

Foreign  missions  are  more  nearly  a  work  of  disinterested 
benevolence  than  almost  any  thing  we  can  take  in  hand. 
The  money  given  does  not  come  back  to  us  directly  and  vis- 
ibly. Those  who  build  churches  and  schools  at  home  reap 
the  benefits  at  once  in  the  enhancement  of  their  property 
and  in  the  improvement  of  the  society  which  surrounds 
them.  The  gospel  preached  in  a  community  or  neighbor- 
hoed  is  worth  a  thousand  times  hs  cost  in  the  improvement 
of  public  morals  and  in  the  })romotion  of  the  general  wel- 
fare. The  giver  himself  and  his  family  are  the  immediate 
beneficiaries.  The  spiritual  and  the  temporal  interests  are 
subserved.  It  is  a  provision  for  his  own  good,  and  contrib- 
utes to  his  own  comfort  and  enjoyment.  The  money  given 
remains  at  home,  is  thrown  into  circulation,  and  scarcely 
leaves  the  hand  that  bestows  it  before,  in  some  shape,  it  re- 
turns to  the  giver.  The  ftinds  for  foreign  missions  are  ex- 
pended abroad,  and  the  end  is  to  bless  those  who  are  far 
away — people  of  a  different  race,  and  perhaps  living  on  the 
other  side  of  the  earth.  If  the  bread  thus  cast  upon  the 
waters  ever  comes  back  it  is  after  many  days.  It  is  this 
feature  of  missions  which  should  most  commend  them  to  the 
Christian.  Here  is  an  opportunity  to  be  unselfish,  to  do 
something  for  love's  sake  with  no  possible  taint  of  low  and 
unworthy  motives.  It  is  an  occasion  such  as  Mary  coveted 
and  improved  when  she  broke  the  alabaster  box  and  poured 
the  costly  nard  upon  the  Saviour's  head.  "What  is  often 
urged  by  a  utilitarian  covetousness  as  an  objection  to  mis- 
sions is,  in  truth,  a  singular  and  sufficient  reason  for  them. 
Some  measure  for  the  crucifixion  of  self  is  needed,  a  test  of 
genuine  Christian  devotion  is  demanded,  and  the  devout 
soul  longs  for  a  duty  that  shall  be  stripped  of  every  incen- 
tive but  love.  We  have  all  of  these  in  the  appeal  for  foreign 
missions,  because  it  is  addressed  to  the  purest  and  highest 


Missions.  281 

form  of  unselfish  benevolence ;  and  for  this  reason  it  is  the 
queen  of  all  religious  enterprises. 

I^Iissions  appeal  most  powerfully  to  the  conscience.  The 
command  to  go  into  all  the  world  is  explicit.  The  obliga- 
tion might  be  inferred  from  universal  provisions  of  salva- 
tion, from  the  scope  of  infinite  love,  from  the  breadth  of 
the  atonement,  and  from  the  ministry  of  the  Spirit  in  all 
men.  The  matter  might  have  been  left  to  the  benevo- 
lent impulses  of  the  regenerated  heart  in  view  of  the  lost 
condition  of  the  world  without  the  gospel.  It  is  not  con- 
ceivable that  those  who  have  felt  the  peace  and  comfort 
of  salvation  and  have  realized  the  perils  of  sin  should  look 
upon  a  perishing  race  with  indifference;  but  the  Master's 
authority  is  directly  asserted.  We  are  commanded  to  do 
this  thing — to  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature.  He  calls 
his  servants  and  delivers  unto  them  his  goods — the  priceless 
treasure  of  the  gospel — and  will  hold  them  to  account  for 
the  sacred  trust.  Our  marching  orders  are  clear,  and  in 
conscience  we  must  obey  them.  There  may  be  other  motives, 
but  the  cause  could  not  be  left  to  them,  and  hence  we  have 
the  command.  It  is  not  for  us  to  inquire  into  the  reasons 
so  much  as  it  is  to  obey.  The  appeal  is  to  the  Christian 
conscience,  to  our  sense  of  obligation  to  God,  and  to  our 
recognition  of  the  authority  of  Christ.  It  is  God's  appoint- 
ed means  of  giving  the  gospel  to  the  world.  In  his  meas- 
ure the  commission  is  to  every  Christian  man,  and  Christ 
expects  him  to  do  his  part.  It  is  not  relevant,  in  this  con- 
nection, to  inquire  how  long  it  will  take  to  Christianize  man- 
kind, or  whether  the  world  will  ever  be  altogether  brought 
to  Christ.  As  a  matter  of  conscience,  we  are  to  send  the 
glad  tidings  everywhere,  and  see  that  the  gospel  is  preached 
to  all  nations  for  a  witness.  Whether  the  heathen  can  be 
saved  without  the  gospel  is  not  the  question.  God  has  com- 
manded us  to  send  it  to  them,  and  our  responsibility  will  be 


282  The  Editor-Bishop. 

measured  not  so  much  by  the  extent  of  their  danger  as  by 
our  disposition  and  ability  to  fulfill  the  great  comniissiou. 
However  it  may  be  with  the  heathen,  we  shall  ourselves^e 
lost  if  we  fail  in  our  obedience  to  Christ's  commands.  It 
is  not  a  question  of  sentiment  nor  of  speculative  theology, 
but  of  conscientious  obedience  to  Christ  That  must  be  a 
conscience  grossly  perverted  or  sadly  in  want  of  light  that 
is  not  alive  to  missionary  obligation.  It  is  to  conscience — 
the  enlightened  Christian  conscience — that  the  cause  of  mis- 
sions makes  one  of  its  strongest  appeals.  This  is  an  element 
of  value  in  it:  that  it  addresses  the  conscience,  that  it  quick- 
ens the  spiritual  nature,  and  that  it  goes  down  to  the  very 
root  of  religious  principle.  It  breaks  up  the  ground  and 
enriches  the  spiritual  soil  of  the  Church,  and  thus  contrib- 
utes to  her  piety  and  power. 

In  another  aspect  of  the  subject  faith  stands  out  conspic- 
uously. "Son,  man,  can  these  dry  bones  live?"  The  vis- 
ion was  to  rebuke  unbelief,  and  to  illustrate  the  power  of 
the  gospel.  Paganism  is  a  valley  of  dry  bones,  and  the 
world  is  a  scene  of  spiritual  death.  What  the  gospel  has 
done  warrants  the  conviction  that  it  will  yet  wave  its  victo- 
rious banner  over  every  land.  It  has  achieved  enough  with- 
in fifty  years  to  assure  us  that  erelong  "the  earth  shall  be 
full  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  as  the  waters  cover  the 
sea."  It  is  written  that  the  root  of  Jesse  shall  stand  for  an 
ensign  of  the  people,  and  that  "  to  it  shall  the  Gentiles  seek, 
and  his  rest  shall  be  glorious."  Christ  saw  of  the  travail  of 
his  soul,  and  was  satisfied.  The  apostles  believed  in  the  gos- 
pel as  the  power  and  the  wisdom  of  God.  Those  who  have 
been  born  of  the  Spirit  have  in  themselves  the  earnest  of 
the  world's  conversion.  Let  the  Church  go  forth  at  the  di- 
vine command,  prophesying  in  the  name  of  Christ  and  call- 
ing for  the  life-breathing  Spirit,  and  the  result  is  not  doubt- 
ful.    Not  to  have  faith  in  foreiffn  missions  is  to  confess  our 


Missions.  283 

unbelief  iu  the  gospel  and  in  Christ  himself,  and  that  we 
are  profoundly  ignorant  of  the  history  of  Christianity.  It 
i^  here  that  we  ought  to  have  faith  and  that  we  nnist  have 
it.  Faith  in  God,  faith  in  Christ,  faith  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
faith  in  the  gospel  as  the  means  of  human  salvation,  is  fieed- 
ed  to  encourage  and  strengthen  our  endeavor.  It  is  an  en- 
terprise of  love,  of  conscience,  and  also  of  faith.  Plere  is  a 
distinctive  end  and  purpose  for  our  faith,  and  according  to 
our  faith  will  be  the  progress  of  Christian  conquest. 

A  capital  excellence  of  missions  is  that  in  them  we  are  in 
complete  sympathy  with  the  work  of  Ciirist.  The  Redeem- 
er's heart  is  in  this  work  as  iu  no  other.  His  mediatorial 
reign  is  directed  to  this  object ;  his  intercessions  are  for  its 
accomplishment.  It  is  of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  the 
world's  conversion  is  to  be  the  crowning  satisfaction  of  our 
crucified  Lord.  His  love  manifested  on  the  cross  is  the  su- 
preme impulse  in  us.  "For  the  love  of  Christ  constraineth 
us;  because  we  thus  judge  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then 
were  all  dead;  and  that  he  died  for  all  that  they  which  live 
should  not  henceforth  live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  him 
which  died  for  them  and  rose  again."  All  are  dead,  all  are 
redeemed.  Love  gives  us  the  cross  and  salvation  through 
its  awful  agony.  That  love  thrilled  the  heart  of  Paul,  it 
fired  the  enthusiasm  of  Coke,  Heber,  and  Judson,  and  it 
burns  in  the  souls  of  our  missionaries  in  distant  lands  to- 
day. If  we  all — the  entire  Church — could  only  feel  the 
mighty  argument  of  Christ's  love,  and  yield  to  its  constrain- 
ing power!  We  shall  hope  and  pray  for  the  blessed  con- 
summation, for  the  baptism  of  Christ's  love,  that  shall  impel 
us  no  longer  to  live  to  ourselves  but  unto  him  that  died  for 
us. 


284  The  Editor-Bishop. 

AN  OLD  OBJECTION  TO  MISSIONS. 

An  article  in  one  of  our  secular  dailies  recently  called 
our  attention  to  the  old  and  threadbare  objection  to  foreign 
missions — that  these  lead  to  the  neglect  of  the  religiously 
destitute  at  home.  The  tone  of  the  article  was  fair  and  sin- 
cere, and  doubtless  expresses  the  convictions  of  many  be- 
nevolent people  who  are  friendly  to  the  spread  of  the  gospel. 

An  answer,  in  part,  to  this  objection  is  that  people  in 
Christian  lands  have  the  gospel.  There  are  what  are  called 
the  neglected  classes,  and  there  are  masses  not  much  influ- 
enced by  the  direct  teachings  of  the  gospel ;  but  the  churches 
and  Sunday-schools  are  open  to  them.  Bibles  and  tracts  are 
systematically  distributed  among  them,  and  ministers,  mis- 
sionaries, and  religious  men  and  women  are  moving  about 
in  contact  with  them.  If  any  are  ignorant  of  Christ  and 
of  the  teachings  of  Christianity,  it  is  for  the  most  part  their 
own  fault.  All  who  desire  a  Bible  have  one;  all  who  are 
willing  to  hear  the  gospel  may  hear  it.  With  the  heathen 
it  is  diiferent.  They  have  no  Bibles,  and  they  are  without 
a  divine  revelation.  If  large  masses  of  people  at  home 
choose  to  reject  the  gospel,  this  is  no  good  reason  why  the 
Church  should  withhold  it  from  the  millions  of  pagans  who 
have  no  gospel  privileges  whatever.  Such  a  course  on  the 
score  of  benevolence  would  be  criminal  rather  than  praise- 
worthy. 

We  most  heartily  second  all  efforts  to  call  sinners  to  re- 
pentance at  home  and  to  search  out  and  urge  the  gospel 
upon  the  jioor,  ignorant,  and  vicious  in  our  large  cities;  but 
at  the  worst  their  opportunities  are  incomparably  better 
than  those  of  the  heathen.  No  amount  of  effort  or  expend- 
iture can  save  all  in  any  locality.  The  duty  of  the  Church 
is,  as  far  as  possible,  to  give  the  gospel  to  all.  It  cannot 
compel  nor  assure  its  acceptance.  It  is  manifest  that,  were 
we  to  wait  until  all  the  heathen  at  home  were  saved,  we 


Missions.    ,    *  285 

should  never  move  beyond  the  limits  of  our  Christian  civ- 
ilization. Had  this  principle  been  adopted  by  the  apostles 
and  the  primitive  Church,  we  should  be  heathen  ourselves, 
and  Christ  would  never  have  been  preached  outside  of  Je- 
rusalem and  Palestine.  Paul,  in  that  case,  would  never 
have  set  foot  on  the  soil  of  Macedonia;  Peter  would  never 
have  gone  to  Babylon ;  and  Rome,  Greece,  and  Britain  would 
never  have  heard  of  the  Saviour.  "When  the  Saviour  com- 
manded his  apostles  and  the  Church  to  go  into  all  the  world, 
and  to  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature,  he  meant  that 
they  should  go.  As  Peter,  John,  and  Paul,  under  inspira- 
tion, interpreted  this  commission  and  went  abroad  be^re 
the  people  at  home  were  Christianized,  so  may  we. 

AVhat  is  possible  may  be  done  at  home  at  the  same  time 
that  Christ  is  preached  abroad.  The  evangelization  of  the 
world  is  a  work  of  time,  and  it  is  important  that  the  work 
of  preparation  should  be  going  on  in  many  places  at  once. 
The  gospel  is  as  seed  sown,  and,  being  sown  at  home,  it 
would  be  a  cruel  waste  of  time  to  wait  for  the  harvest  in 
one  field  before  breaking  ground  and  sowing  in  another. 
Our  gardeners  know  that  it  would  be  folly  to  wait  for  the 
maturity  of  one  vegetable  before  planting  another.  Be- 
tween the  one  and  the  other  there  is  no  conflict,  but  each  is 
coming  forward  in  its  own  order  and  swelling  the  aggregate 
profit.  Cotton-planters  tell  us  that  a  fair  amount  of  com 
can  be  made  without  interfering  with  the  cottpn.  While 
the  cotton  is  being  planted  the  corn  is  already  up  and  grow- 
ing, and  the  two  cultures  go  on  side  by  side  without  hinder- 
ance  to  either.  The  Church  can  do  what  is  possible  at 
home  in  both  sowing  and  reaping,  and  it  can  at  the  same 
time  be  sowing  gospel-seed  in  heathen  countries. 

The  Christian  Church  is  not  doing  its  duty  at  home  nor 
abroad,  but  there  is  no  conflict  between  the  two.  It  is  a 
matter  of  fact  that  when  the  Protestant  Churches  had  no 


286  The  Editor-Bishop. 

foreign  missions  the  masses  at  home  were  the  most  neglect- 
ed. For  proof  we  have  only  to  compare  the  religious  con- 
dition of  England  in  the  eighteenth  century  with  its  relig- 
ious condition  in  the  present  century.  The  same  life  that 
stirs  Christian  men  to  seek  the  destitute  at  home  also  moves 
them  to  go  to  those  who  are  perishing  in  heathen  lands.  It 
is  a  fact  that  the  more  the  churches  are  imbued  with  the 
missionary  spirit  the  more  foithful,  zealous,  and  liberal  they 
are  in  supplying  the  people  with  the  gospel  at  home.  Some 
choose  to  explain  that  this  is  a  reactionary  influence  that 
comes  from  the  Avork  of  foreign  missions.  It  may  be  so,  but 
we  account  for  it  rather  on  the  ground  that  all  Christian 
work  has  its  source  in  the  one  element  of  spiritual  life,  and 
that  where  this  life  burns  in  the  heart  the  whole  sphere  of 
duty  is  embraced.  If  taught  by  the  precepts  and  examples 
of  the  New  Testament  and  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
no  Christian  can  resist  the  convictions  and  impulses  of  mis- 
sionary work. 

As  for  foreign  missions  being  a  failure,  our  answer  in 
part  is  that  the  revival  of  religion  at  home  usually  keeps 
pace  with  our  missionary  zeal ;  and,  further,  that  in  propor- 
tion to  money  expended  and  all  agencies  employed,  the  suc- 
cess of  the  gospel  is  greater  in  foreign  missions  than  it  is  at 
home.  How  can  any  one  acquainted  with  what  has  been 
accomplished  within  the  last  fifty  years  say  that  foreign  mis- 
sions are  a  failure?  A  glance  at  the  islands  of  the  Pacific, 
Madagascar,  India,  and  China,  refutes  the  assertion.  With- 
in this  period  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands  have 
been  brought  to  Christ.  But  if  this  were  not  so,  and  if 
with  little  apparent  fruit  our  mission-work  were  only  a  work 
of  preparation  and  of  seed-sowing,  still  it  would  be  a  great 
success  as  laying  the  foundations  for  the  future  conquest  of 
the  world  to  Christ.  Foreign  missions  are  successful ;  but 
if,  according  to  our  judgment,  it  were  otherwise,  still  the 


Missions.  '2iS7 

duty  of  the  Church  is  clear  to  go  into  all  the  wprld,  and  to 
preach  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom  as  a  witness  to  all  nations. 


DEAD  AND   BURIED. 

At  the  recent  session  of  the  Mississippi  Conference,  after 
a  brother  had  represented  the  people  of  his  charge  as  op- 
posed to  foreign  missions,  Bishop  Keener  related  the  follow- 
ing incident.  Not  long  ago,  while  passing  through  a  cer- 
tain section  in  a  private  conveyance,  his  attention  was  drawn 
to  a  neat-looking  church,  situated  in  a  pleasant  grove,  with 
a  burying-ground  contiguous.  On  inquiry  he  was  informed 
that  the  church  had  only  one  member  living.  All  the  rest, 
of  a  once  large  membership,  had  died,  and  were  buried  in 
the  adjoining  grave-yai^d.  It  was  an  anti-missionary  Baptist 
church. 

Beyond  the  mere  statement  the  Bishop  made  no  com- 
ment, leaving  the  application  to  the  Conference.  To  us  it 
was  about  as  staitling  and  comprehensive  a  missionary  ad- 
dress as  we  had  heard  in  many  a  day.  Our  churches,  to 
live,  must  be  missionary.  Opposition  to  missions,  or  indif- 
ference, is  the  certain  precursor  of  death.  That  Church  will 
die  out  that  neither  gives  nor  prays  for  missions. 

Those  charges  that  arc  without  the  missionary  spirit  are 
but  half  alive.  They  would  l)e  utterly  dead  if  they  did  not 
form  a  part  of  a  great  connection  from  which  some  vitality 
is  derived.  Not  many  charges-r-perhaps  none — are  alto- 
gether indifferent  to  missions.  Individuals  are  saved  from 
complete  inanition  by  the  spirituality  of  those  about  them 
who  feel  the  binding  obligation  of  the  great  commission  to 
preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature. 

But  these  dead  branches — anti-missionary  members — in 
any  of  our  congregations  are  a  weight  and  a  curse  to  the 
general  spiritual  welfare.    They  infect  the  whole  body  to 


288  The  Editok-Bishop. 

some  extent,  stand  in  the  way  of  tlie  pastor  in  his  endeav- 
ors to  raise  the  assessment,  and  join  in  the  howl  of  world- 
lings and  infidels  against  the  folly  of  sending  the  gosi)el  to 
the  heathen. 

We  believe  the  anti-missionary  Baptists  based  their  opjx)- 
sition  to  missions  on  the  doctrine  of  predestination  and  rc|)- 
xobatiou.  God  would  bring  in  the  elect  somehow,  and  the 
result  was  certain.  It  is  not  easy  to  understand  the  ground 
on  which  an  anti-missionary  Meth(Kiist  stands.  It  is  us 
much  as  w'e  can  do  to  take  care  of  ourselves — this  is  the 
usual  plea.  In  some  cases  sincere  and  good  jieople  fall  into 
this  delusion,  but  generally  opposition  to  missions  is  connect- 
ed with  lack  of  religious  intelligence  and  utter  ungodliness, 
or  a  very  low  type  of  piety. 

Some  of  our  pastors  occasionally  lose  heart,  and  fear  for 
their  salaries  when  the  missionary  collection  is  to  be  taken. 
The  more  observant  and  enlightened,  however,  have  learned 
that  the  spirit  of  missions  is  the  spirit  of  life,  and  that  where 
people  give  freely  and  gladly  to  send  the  gospel  abroad  they 
are  most  generous  in  its  support  at  home, 

A  church  that  does  not  wish  to  die  and  be  buried  must 
wake  up  to  the  call  of  God  to  spread  the  tidings  of  salvation. 


THE  MISSION  OF  GOLD. 


CHRIST  OVER  AGAINST  THE  TREASURY. 

THOSE  chests  in  the  temple,  with  their  trumpet-shaped 
openings,  were  suggestive  to  the  throngs  coming  and 
going.  To  the  Jewish  Avorshipers  they  Avere  not  offensive, 
for  it  was  a  part  of  their  religion  to  give.  The  offering  of 
sacrifices,  the  prayers  of  the  devout,  and  all  sacred  services 
might  be  going  on  near  by,  but  the  rattle  of  coin  as  it  fell 
wrought  no  discord.  It  was  in  keeping  with  God's  house, 
although  that  house  was  to  be  a  house  of  prayer  for  all 
nations.  Christ  did  overthrow  the  tables  of  the  money- 
changei^s  and  drive  out  those  who  converted  the  holy  place 
into  a  mart  for  buying,  selling,  and  getting  gain;  but  he 
looks  with  complacency  upon  this  arrangement  for  the  sup- 
port of  religion. 

He  is  there  over  against  the  treasury,  and  as  he  rests 
from  his  recent  conflict  with  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  there 
is  something  tranquilizing  in  the  scene  before  him.  Intent 
as  he  might  be  on  the  spiritual  character  and  interests  of 
the  kingdom  of  God,  the  treasury  and  its  contributors  are 
worthy  of  his  careful  notice.  His  eye  is  upon  those  who 
come  with  their  offerings,  and  he  counts  the  pieces  and  ac- 
curately estimates  the  character  of  the  givers.  It  was  sheer 
and  outright  giving — the  money  Avas  cast  into  the  treasury. 
Nothing  came  back  in  the  shape  of  prizes,  confections,  or 
spectacular  entertainments.  The  money  Avent  into  the 
chests,  out  of  sight,  and  that  Avas  the  end  of  it.  It  Avas  for 
God  and  his  temple,  a  gift  out  and  out,  with  no  discount 
taken  off  in  the  shape  of  fun  and  refreshments. 

10  (289) 


290  The  Editor-Bishop. 

The  poor  widow  is  the  central  figure  in  the  scene.  The 
poorest  of  the  poor,  bereft  and  desolate,  she  throws  in  her 
two  mites.  It  was  but  a  farthing,  but  it  was  all  her  living. 
Many  that  were  rich  cast  in  much,  but  it  was  of  their  abun- 
dance. There  might  have  been  some  conscience  in  their 
act,  but  there  was  no  self-denial.  It  was  less  than  conven- 
ient, costing  no  effort,  and  involving  no  loss  of  personal 
comfort.  It  did  not  even  remotely  touch  their  costly  at- 
tire nor  trench  upon  the  delicacies  of  their  tables.  Their 
sumptuously  furnished  homes  lost  nothing  of  their  splendor. 
They  cast  in  much,  but  it  was  little  for  them.  The  only 
generous  giver  there  was  the  one  who  gave  a  farthing.  In 
'  her  it  seemed  a  reckless  act,  to  be  condemned  rather  than 
commended. 

To  have  given  nothing,  when  there  were  so  many  rich 
people  able  to  meet  the  entire  demand,  would  have  been  a 
plausible  view  of  her  duty.  She  should  at  any  rate  have 
kept  half,  dividing  what  she  had  equally  between  the  Lord 
and  herself.  This  would  have  more  than  sjitisfied  the  pir 
ety  of  most  people.  There  is  an  utter  abandon  in  this  giv- 
ing of  all — a  love  and  faith  that  is  as  unaccountable  to  us 
as  it  was  surprising  to  the  Saviour.  So  striking  was  this 
instance  of  consecration  that  the  Master  specially  calls  his 
disciples  to  contemplate  it.  It  was  a  green  spot  in  that 
arid  waste  of  hypocrisy,  ostentation,  and  covetousness.  In 
an  atmosphere  of  greed,  self-righteousness,  and  malignant 
hatred  of  the  truth,  this  was  a  relief  and  an  object  to  dwell 
upon  with  peculiar  ])leasure  and  satisfaction. 

Let  us  not  mistake  the  lesson.  It  is  the  duty  and  the 
privilege  of  the  poor  to  give.  It  is  the  privilege  of  the 
rich  to  give  much,  to  build  churches,  endow  colleges,  and 
establish  asylums;  but  the  poor  may  give,  and  even  exceed 
in  their  giving,  though  it  be  absolutely  little.  The  far- 
thing from  those  able  to  give  dollars  and  thousands  of  dol- 


The  Mission  of  Gold.  291 

lars  would  be  an  insult  to  God,  while  it  is  commended  in 
those  who  can  do  no  more.  A  missionary  hen  may  be 
much  for  a  little  child,  while  an  elephant  or  a  herd  of  cat- 
tle would  be  a  meager  offering  for  many  well-to-do  people. 
It  was  the  farthing  of  the  poor  widow  that  Christ  dwells 
upon  with  so  much  approval.  It  was  an  expression  of  love 
and  devotion  iu  her,  and  a  blessing  to  herself  The  tem- 
ple was  not  built  by  the  mites  of  the  poor,  nor  do  we  sup- 
pose they  went  very  far  toward  maintaining  the  services 
and  supporting  the  institutions  of  religion.  They  helped, 
no  doubt;  but  theu,  as  now,  the  contributions  of  the  more 
wealthy  were  the  chief  dependence.  The  world  can  never 
be  educated  and  saved  by  widows'  mites  and  farthing  do- 
nations. God  expects  the  Vanderbilts,  Drews,  Riches,  Cor- 
nells, and  men  of  large  means  everywhere,  to  consecrate 
their  wealth  to  Christian  enterprises. 

But  while  this  is  so,  it  is  the  duty  of  the  poor  to  give 
something.  If  the  cause  of  Christ  could  do  without  their 
mites,  they  cannot  afford  to  withhold  them.  The  grace  that 
is  in  them  will  se^  this  manifestation,  and  will  be  increased 
and  strengthened  by  it.  That  poor  widow  might  have  truly 
said  to  herself:  "  These  mites  are  much  to  me ;  they  can  be 
comparatively  nothing  in  the  great  treasure,  and  the  rich 
can  easily  pay  it  all."  But  this  would  never  have  satisfied 
her  love,  nor  would  her  personal  obligation  have  been  met. 
There  was  a  blessing  in  the  duty.  She  performed  it,  and 
while  she  cast  in  all  that  she  had  she  went  away  rich  and 
content.  It  is  not  unusual  to  encourage  small  donations  by 
arraying  the  fact  that  a  dime  will  pay  for  a  Testament,  that 
fifty  cents  will  give  a  Bible  to  some  poor  heathen,  and  that 
a  nickel  will  buy  one  brick  for  the  church  wall.  This  is 
well  enough,  but  we  imagine  the  poor  widow  thought  very 
little  about  the  purchasing  power  of  her  farthing.  She 
gave  it  to  God  in  a  way  that  was  customary  and  open  to 


292  The  Editor-Bishop. 

her.  It  might  go  into  the  oil  of  the  sanctuary,  help  to  pay 
for  the  morning  and  evening  sacrifices,  or  contribute  to  the 
adornment  and  glory  of  the  vestments  of  the  high-priest. 
She  probably  thought  nothing  of  these  things.  Christ 
might  have  told  her  that  the  hierarchy  was  corrupt  and 
about  to  vanish,  and  that  her  little  store  was  as  good  as 
thrown  away.  It  is  the  giving — the  principle  of  it — that 
he  scrutinizes  and  commends.  Whatever  became  of  the 
money,  she  did  her  duty  and  got  her  reward. 

Christ  is  still  over  against  the  treasury.  If  he  is  present 
as  an  interested  spectator  anywhere,  he  is  here.  He  beholds 
the  givers,  and  weighs  them  in  his  balances.  His  eye  is 
upon  the  rich  and  upon  the  poor.  To  him  character  is  re- 
vealed by  what  men  put  into  his  chests.  It  is  possible  to  de- 
ceive human  judgment,  and  to  make  a  show  of  piety  where 
there  is  really  no  deep  love.  "The  Lord  shall  judge  his 
people."  Christ  is  sitting  in  judgment  on  our  collections. 
No  man  puts  his  hand  into  his  pocket  for  Christ  unnoticed 
by  the  Lord  himself.  He  beholds  hoiv  the  people  cast 
money  into  his  treasury,  what  proportiou'it  bears  to  what 
they  have,  the  motive,  and  the  sacrifice  in  the  act.  The 
responsibility  4s  not  relative  as  to  what  others  do,  but  per- 
sonal and  absolute.  The  penuriousness  of  the  rich  does 
not  excuse  the  poor,  nor  does  the  unfaithfulness  of  one  re- 
lease another.  The  j)oor  widow  may  have  gone  too  for,  but 
Christ  commends  her  devotion.  She  will,  we  fear,  rise  up 
in  the  judgment  and  condemn  many,  both  rich  and  poor, 
of  this  generation. 

COST  OF  SOULS. 

Our  China  letter  will  be  read  with  interest  and  profit. 
Up  to  date  the  converts  have  cost  us  about  one  thousand 
taels  per  head.     The  calculation  is  easily  made.     So  much 


The  Mission  of  Gold.  293 


money  has  been  appropriated  to  the  China  Mission,  and  so 
many  persons  have  been  converted.  Result  gives  one  soul 
for  every  fifteen  hundred  dollars  expended. 

We  do  not  know  the  cost  of  souls  in  other  missions,  nor 
whether  an  estimate  of  the  kind  has  been  made.  We  might 
institute  a  comparison  with  our  negro  missions,  or  with  the 
expenditures  upon  California  of  former  years,  if  we  had 
the  figures  at  hand.  Could  not  an  approximation  be  reached 
of  disbursements  and  returns  in  our  regular  work  at  home? 
How  much  money  for  every  soul  converted?  Our  gospel 
arithmetic  might  be  carried  up  to  the  final  application.  How 
much  for  every  convert  since  the  day  of  Pentecost?  Di- 
rectly or  indirectly  what  amount  has  been  expended  on  our 
individual  salvation?  To  answer  this  last  question  we  should 
have  to  go  a  long  way  back,  and  the  sum  total  might  be 
no  inconsiderable  item. 

Money  in  this  connection  has  a  peculiar  attribute.  So 
we  thought  in  reading  the  China  letter.  Ordinarily  it  rep- 
resents values.  There  is  in  a  given  sum  so  much  food,  a 
ship  and  its  cargo,  lands,  houses,  raiment,  the  capital  of  a 
snug  business,  or  ten  per  cent,  of  interest.  But  here  is  a 
value  of  another  sort.  Money  represents  souls.  In  a  given 
field  of  evangelical  labor  it  is  ciphered  out  to  a  cent.  Ev- 
ery convert  has  cost  about  one  thousand  taels.  These  souls 
would  have  remained  in  their  sins,  and  have  been  lost  for- 
ever, but  for  this  money.  Without  it  neither  missionary 
nor  Bible  could  have  reached  them.  Here  is  a  new  and 
peculiar  ^alue  put  upon  what  we  possess,  out  of  which 
grows  a  solemn  and  startling  responsibility.  The  Chris- 
tian's wealth  cannot  be  divested  of  this  fearful  element 
of  accountability.  What  has  been  expended  upon  our 
lusts,  the  extravagances  of  fashion,  or  hoarded  in  the  grasp 
of  avarice,  represents  souls  which  might  have  been  saved 
had  it  been  devoted  to  the  cause  of  God.     Our  missions 


294  The  Editor-Bishop, 


have  always  been  straitened  for  means.  Ten  times  the 
amount  expended  upon  them  would  doubtless  have  se- 
cured a  like  proportion  of  spiritual  results.  Ten  souls 
would  have  been  converted  where  one  has  been.  Who 
will  be  held  accountable  for  these  lost  souls?  It  is  a  ques- 
tion for  those  to  ponder  who  have  kept  back  the  tithes  due 
to  God's  house. 

Nor  does  this  principle  apply  only  to  foreign  missions. 
The  money  put  in  a  Church  represents  the  good  that  such 
a  Church  would  accomplish ;  and  that  which  is  exjiended 
in  keeping  up  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  and  sustaining 
missionaries  in  weak  and  destitute  districts  stands  for  the 
spiritual  and  immortal  benefits  secured  by  these  instru- 
mentalities. 

Devoted  men  are  necessary  as  missionaries;  but  these 
have  been  more  easily  found  than  the  means  for  their  sup- 
port. Think  of  our  two  missionaries  in  China,  with  the 
field  white  to  the  harvest,  and  they  compelled  to  curtail 
their  labors  for  the  want  of  a  meager  support  which  the 
Church  at  home  withholds!  There  is  need  also  of  prayer, 
and  the  pervading  ministry  of  the  Holy  Spirit;  but  neither 
of  these  will  obviate  the  want  of  pecuniary  aid.  The  grace 
of  giving  is  as  essential  as  that  of  faith.  The  salvation  of 
souls  costs  money  as  well  as  labor  and  prayer.  These  souls 
in  China  have  cost  a  great  deal,  but  the  missionary  con> 
forts  us  with  the  hope  that  the  rate  will  soon  be  reduced 
from  a  thousand  taels  to  one  tael  per  soul. 

That  the  larger  figure  is  a  high  price  depends  upon  such 
considerations  as  these:  The  absolute  value  of  a  soul  saved 
in  heaven — "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  shall  gain 
the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul?"  Some  of  these 
fruits  of  our  mission  are  now  in  heaven,  and  we  are  sure 
they  do  not  feel  that  too  much  has  been  paid.  Nor  would 
those  who  remain  on  earth,  rejoicing  in  the  hope  of  glory, 


The  Mission  of  Gold.  295 


sell  their  faith  for  ten  times  the  entire  cost  of  our  missions. 
The  money  would  have  effected  more  somewhere  else.  This 
is  doubtful,  unless  it  is  clear  that  the  money  would  have 
been  directed  to  some  other  field.  But  nobody  can  sup- 
pose that  the  mere  pittance  we  have  been  sending  to  China 
has  lessened  the  contributions  to  other  objects.  On  tlie 
contrary,  the  reflexive  influence  upon  the  piety  and  liber- 
ality of  the  Church  has  enriched  and  strengthened  us  at 
home.  The  souls  saved  in  China  are  a  clear  gain,  besides 
the  benefits  which  giving  ahd  thinking'and  preaching  about 
them  have  brought  to  our  own  doors.  Missions  are  the 
life  of  the  Church,  and  the  farther  from  home  the  greater 
their  power  of  reaction  upon  us.  The  good  which  flows 
from  them  depends  greatly  upon  their  cost.  David  would 
not  sacrifice  of  that  which  cost  him  nothing.  Neither 
should  we.  It  is  this  which  exhibits  faith,  and  takes  the 
churl  out  of  the  heart. 

There  is  another  view  to  which  our  correspondent  re- 
fers— the  prospective  work  in  China.  A  large  outlay  at 
first,  as  in  many  secular  enterprises,  but  there  is  a  good  in- 
terest in  the  time  to  come.  The  preparatory  steps,  it  may 
be,  have  involved  heavy  expenditures  and  small  returns ;  but 
now  the  prospect  brightens,  and  the  way  is  open  to  reach  and 
save  these  benighted  millions.  Much  of  our  impatience  is 
due  to  our  avarice.  Suppose  none  had  been  converted  as 
yet,  is  not  our  duty  plain  to  give  the  gospel  to  every  creat- 
ure? Whether  the  people  shall  be  evangelized  slowly,  rap- 
idly, or  not  at  all,  may  be  no  business  of  ours.  Our  respon- 
sibility begins  and  ends  with  doing  our  part.  Here,  how- 
ever, we  have  assurance  that  nothing  has  been  undertaken 
in  vain. 

The  wonder  is  that  so  rich  a  harvest  is  about  to  reward 
the  very  stinted  sowing.  Events  in  China,  under  the  hand 
of  Providence,  have  long  been  shaping  for  a  great  triumph 


296  The  Editok-Bishop. 

of  the  gospel.  Fifty  years  hence  a  new  estimate  will  have 
to  l)e  made.  What  will  have  been  the  cost  of  souls  then, 
as  compared  with  the  present?  If  up  to  this  time  it  had 
been  ten  thousand  taels  apiece,  what  will  it  be  when  the 
teeming  millions  of  the  East  shall  be  lx)rn  again?  As 
Christians  we  ought  to  be  thankful  that  such  a  chance  for 
fnvestment  is  afforded,  and  for  this  opportunity  of  making 
to  ourselves  friends  of  the  unrio^hteous  mammon. 


ECONOMIZING  FOR  GOD. 

The  cheapness  with  which  the  pi*esent  crop  has  been 
made  is  regarded  as  a  hopeful  circumstance.  If  the  prices 
are  low  and  the  yield  scanty  in  many  sections,  still  if  there 
has  been  but  little  outlay  in  the  cultivation,  the  net  results 
will  be  considerable.  People  who  keep  out  of  debt,  and 
make  a  little,  are  well  off  in  comparison  with  those  whose 
obligations  are  more  than  the  value  of  the  crop.  Econo- 
my is  an  excellent  remedy  for  hard  times,  and  a  means  by 
which  the  country  after  awhile  will  recover  some  degree  of 
prosperity.  It  is  a  necessity  with  many  who  have  already 
exhausted  their  credit,  and  it  is  a  wise  expedient  where  peo- 
ple would  maintain  their  independence  and  recover  from 
the  financial  prosti-ation  and  losses  which  have  befallen 
them. 

Doubtless  the  exorbitant  taxes  call  for  retrenchment  in 
other  expenditures,  as  the  taxes  must  be  met  or  the  prop- 
erty will  be  put  under  the  sheriff's  hammer.  These  are 
days  of  frugal  expedients,  of  shifts  in  every  department  of 
expense.  Luxuries,  comforts,  and  conveniences  once  en- 
joyed must  be  dispensed  Avith,  that  the  things  absolutely 
necessary  may  be  secured.  The  old  clothes,  the  last  sea- 
son's bonnet,  the  faded  carpets,  can  be  made  to  do  somehow. 


The  Mission  of  Gold.  297 

It  is  wonderful  how  many  things  can  be  done  without  when 
there  is  a  strong  compulsion. 

But  how  is  it  with  reference  to  economizing  for  God? 
The  spiritual  crop  this  year  in  our  Southern  fields  has  been 
more  than  usually  abundant,  and  none  has  ever  been  made 
at  a  smaller  cost  in  money  to  the  Church.  It  has,  however, 
cost  much  to  the  preachers  in  consuming  what  means  they 
may  have  had  in  the  destitution  of  their  families  and  iu 
the  personal  toils  and  hardships  endured.  They  are  not 
disposed  to  complain,  and  generally  say  but  little  about 
their  privations;  but  we  kflbw  that,  as  a  class,  they  are 
greatly  straitened.  Are  the  people  served  by  these  self- 
denying  men  retrenching  in  other  things  that  they  may  con- 
tribute to  their  support?  Churches  must  be  built  and  re- 
paired, or  the  work  of  God  will  make  little  progress.  Near- 
ly every  religious  interest  suffers,  the  annual  collections — 
which  are  vital  to  our  Connectional  welfare — are  reduced, 
and  the  Church  in  her  missionary  enterprises  is  brought  to 
a  halt,  when  the  needed  funds  are  withheld.  The  times 
are  stringent  with  the  most.  If  the  gospel  is  supported, 
and  the  interests  of  the  Church  are  kept  up,  there  must 
Ix;  retrenchment  in  secular  expenditures  that  there  may  be 
means  to  sustain  the  institutions  of  religion. 

There  must  be  economizing  to  this  distinctive  end — the 
foregoing  not  only  of  luxuries  and  expensive  pleasures,  but 
even  of  usual  comforts.  We  imagine  that  it  was  in  this 
way  that  the  Macedonians  did  so  bountifully  iu  troublous 
times,  so  that  "their  deep  poverty  abounded  unto  the  riches 
of  their  liberality."  There  must  have  been  a  great  deal 
of  self-denial,  extreme  frugality  in  living,  and  many  sacri- 
fices by  thase  poor  but  devoted  Christians  of  whom  the 
apostle  testifies:  "For  to  their  power  I  bear  record;  yea, 
and  beyond  their  power,  they  were  willing  of  themselves." 
It  will  not  do  now  to  go  by  the  standard  of  ability  as  un- 


298  The  EditOh-Bishop. 

derstood  and  practiced  in  the  days  of  our  prosperity.  If  peo- 
ple give  of  their  surplus  only,  and  according  to  convenience, 
as  was  the  custom  in  former  times,  the  gathering  will  be 
meager  indeed.  God's  tenth  is  the  same  in  proi)ortion, 
whether  we  have  little  or  much ;  but  that  tenth  with  many 
can  hardly  be  spared  in  their  imjwverished  condition.  Let 
them  save  in  some  other  way,  even  to  the  point  of  i)ersonal 
inconvenience,  rather  than  withhold  from  God. 

There  will  be  a  blessing  in  the  deed,  a  blessing  returning 
to  them,  and  a  blessing  going  out  in  manifold  streams  to 
gladden  and  refresh  the  Lortjfs  heritage.  We  would  only 
indicate  the  principle,  and  leave  the  application  to  every 
Christian's  conscience.  Let  the  devout  woman  consider 
wherein  she  can  do  without  what  she  feels  she  really  needs, 
in  order  that  Christ's  cause  may  be  upheld.  Let  the  man 
of  God  go  over  the  demands  which  press  upon  hmi  and  the 
things  which  he  desires,  and  mark  some  cherished  object 
as  taken  from  himself  and  given  to  his  Lord.  Save,  deny 
yourselves,  use  every  thoughtful  expedient,  that  you  may 
be  able  to  aid  in  maintaining  the  gospel  and  in  sustaining 
the  enterprises  of  the  Church.  It  is  right  that  Christians 
should  do  this,  and  in  these  times  it  is  absolutely  necessary. 

The  falling  off  in  religious  giving  is  not  so  much  with 
the  poor,  who  have  always  been  accustomed  out  of  their 
deep  poverty  to  contribute  their  mite,  but  it  is  rather  with 
those  who  have  been  used  to  something  like  style  in  their 
living,  and  who  have  followed  closely  in  the  wake,  if  they 
have  not  kept  fully  up  with  the  fashions.  The  sacrifice  of 
mere  appearances,  the  singularity  of  being  behind  the  fash- 
ions, and  of  bringing  their  present  style  into  contrast  with 
the  past,  requires  more  courage  than  the  surrender  of  act- 
aal  comforts.  They  cannot  give  any  thing  for  religious 
purposes  and  maintain  the  expenditures  to  which  they  havo 
been  accustomed.     Their  economizing  for  God  would  not 


The  Mission  of  Gold.  299 

touch  the  real  comforts  and  needs  of  ordinary  desire;  but 
are  they  willing  to  give  up  the  struggle  after  style  and  a 
sham  respectability  that  they  may  be  not  liberal  but  just 
toward  God? 

There  are  of  course  some  who  have  the  means  of  giving 
largely  even  in  these  times  of  almost  unparalleled  pressure. 
The  demand  on  them  is  more  imperative  than  ever.  Their 
stewardship  involves  a  weightier  resiionsibility,  and  they 
will  be  held  to  a  stricter  account  by  the  Master.  Econo- 
mizing for  God  is  not  without  application  to  them.  In  all 
their  profits  and  investments,  and  in  the  use  of  their  money, 
there  is  occasion  for  them  to  devise  liberally  for  Christ. 
It  is  in  their  power  to  help  thq  pastor  and  his  family,  to 
cherish  every  languishing  interest  of  the  Church,  and  to 
hold  and  extend  the  work  of  missions.  Those  that  have 
money  now,  and  hoard  it,  and  speculate  on  it,  and  grow 
richer,  while  every  religious  enterprise  is  crippled  and  ap- 
pealing for  help,  will  have  a  sorrowful  account  to  meet  in 
the  end. 


SOWING  MONEY. 
Giving  to  benevolent  objects  is  sowing  money.  So  Paul 
intimates  to  the  Corinthians.  Every  dollar  has  a  living 
germ  in  it  that  will  sprout  into  new  life  and  ripen  into  a  har- 
vest. Expended  in  other  ways  for  pleasure,  appetite,  and  av- 
arice, it  may  bring  temporary  returns,  but  in  the  end  it  wastes 
and  |)erishes.  The  result  of  fleshly  sowing,  in  money  as  in 
other  things,  ends  in  reaping  corruption.  The  dragon's 
teeth  brought  forth  a  crop  of  armed  men.  A  bad  use  of 
money  is  sure  to  entail  calamities  and  miseries.  The  only 
lasting  and  safe  investment  is  in  devoting  it  to  God  and 
godly  enterprises.  The  only  way  to  keep  it  forever  and  to 
have  it  always  is  to  give  it  away.     The  reported  declara- 


300  The  Editob-Bishop. 

tion  of  a  dying  philanthropist  is  strikingly  true:  "  What  I 
have  given  I  have,  and  \Yhat  I  have  kept  I  have  lost." 

And  yet  the  common  conception  of  giving  would  seem  to 
be  that  it  is  the  alienation  from  ourselves  of  j)roperty  and 
means,  and  that  the  giver  dispossesses  himself  of  that  which 
he  contributes.  This  is  so  not  more  than  in  the  case  of  the 
husbandman  who  casts  seed  into  the  ground.  He  does  not 
throw  away  his  bread,  but  he  makes  it,  and  largely  in- 
creases his  store.  The  bread  cast  upon  the  waters  is  most 
wisely  and  judiciously  disposed  of  to  the  advantage  of  him 
who  finds  it  after  many  days. 

That  money  sown  comes  back  in  kind  may  be  true.  There 
are  promises  which  countenance  the  expectation :  "  Honor 
the  Lord  with  thy  substance,  and  with  the  first-fruits  of  all 
thine  increase ;  so  shall  thy  barns  be  filled  with  plenty,  and 
thy  presses  shall  burst  out  with  new  w^ine."  Paul  certainly 
intimates  to  the  Corinthians  that  they  should  not  be  losers 
in  a  temporal  way  by  what  they  gave  in  ministering  to  the 
saints,  but  that  God  would  enrich  them  in  every  thing. 
There  is  a  principle  here  which  is  taken  into  the  account 
in  the  order  of  Providence,  but  it  is  not  greatly  empha- 
sized in  the  teachings  of  Christ  and  the  apostles,  and  for 
the  reason  that  it  might  induce  sordidness  and  covetousness 
in  giving.  The  penalty  of  withholding  may  be  impover- 
ishment, and  the  reward  of  liberality  may  be  increased 
wordly  prosperity  The  pound  improved  secures  the  gift 
of  more,  while  the  pound  hid  away  is  resumed  by  the  law- 
ful owner.  God  is  not  indifferent  to  our  stewardship  of 
temporal  things,  and  an  even-handed  justice  is  often  exhib- 
ited in  the  condition  of  those  who  have  abused  or  have 
been  faithful  to  their  trust. 

But  the  temporal  benefits  of  liberal  giving  are  the  low- 
est considerations  in  the  Christian's  mind.  Except  so  far 
as  these  may  affect  his  ability  to  give,  they  have  a  very  sub- 


The  Mission  of  Gold.  301 

• — 

ordinate  influence.  He  looks  not  so  much  for  the  return  of 
his  money  as  for  compensation  of  a  nobler  character.  He 
would  not  be  content  to  receive  his  money  back  again,  if 
this  were  all,  because  he  seeks  higher  and  more  durable 
blessings.  Money -given  is  money  sown,  because  the  har- 
vest is  in  spiritual  blessedness  here  and  in  an  eternal  rec- 
ompense hereafter.  The  actual  good  done  is  an  element  of 
satisfaction  and  exquisite  delight;  but  even  more  gratifying 
is  the  sense  of  God's  approval,  and  the  consciousness  that 
we  have  done  all  we  could  for  the  glory  of  God  and  for  the 
happiness  of  men. 

In  whatever  way  we  consider  the  results  of  giving — the 
temporal,  the  spiritual,  the  eternal — it  has  in  it  the  anal- 
ogy of  sowing.  In  a  lower  sense — but  in  an  accurate  one 
— money,  like  the  word,  is  the  good  seed  of  the  kingdom. 
The  analogy  to  nature  is  not  pressed  unduly  when  we  say 
of  this  money-sowing:  "That  which  thou  sowest  is  not 
quickened,  except  it  die."  It  must  die  to  the  giver  before 
it  can  be  quickened  into  a  higher  form  of  blessings  for  him ; 
"  and  that  which  thou  sowest,  thou  sowest  not  that  body 
that  shall  be,  but  bare  grain,  it  may  chance  of  wheat  or  of 
some  other  grain."'  It  is  indeed  a  resurrection — something 
purer  and  better  than  that  which  is  sown — for  "  it  is  sown 
in  dishonor,  it  is  raised  in  glory."  Every  farthing  rightly 
given  has  this  gerniinant  nature.  There  is  a  fruitful  life  in 
it  which  can  only  be  developed  by  sowing — that  is,  by  giv- 
ing it  away.  There  is  but  one  soil  wherein  money  can  be 
quickened  and  expanded  into  a  spiritual  and  immortal  har- 
vest, and  that  is  the  good  ground  of  religion  and  benevo- 
lence. Here  it  bursts  forth  into  flowers  most  fragrant,  into 
fruits  like  those  that  hang  upon  the  tree  of  life,  and  into 
foliage  whose  every  stem  and  leaf  is  full  of  healing  balm. 

Comparatively  a  small  portion  of  the  money  in  the  world 
is  sown.     The  most  is  expended  upon  self,  the  lusts  of  the 


302  The  Editor-Bishop. 

• 

flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life.  It  goes 
into  railroads,  into  estates,  into  the  investments  of  the  stock 
exchange.  It  is  consumed,  wasted,  lost  in  the  attempt  to 
keep  it,  while  the  consecrated  use  which  transmutes  it  into 
imperishable  treasure  is  the  rarest  of  alU 

The  law  holds  good  in  sowing  money  as  in  sowing  wheat 
— sparingly,  sparingly ;  abundantly,  abundantly.  The  farm- 
er who  sows  sparingly  reaps  accordingly.  He  enriches  him- 
self by  scattering  his  seed  with  a  lavish  hand.  Few  men 
are  wisely  liberal.  They  sow  but  little — they  waste  the 
most  that  they  have.  The  money  God  has  given  them  to 
sow  is  hoarded,  or  worse.  The  seed-corn  bears  no  reasona 
ble  proportion  to  that  which  goes  to  the  mill.  They  will 
reap  sparingly — something  perhaps — a  few  thin  and  blight- 
ed ears  scattered  over  a  sterile  field.  In  grace  and  glory 
sparingly.  Of  the  money  we  have  spent,  how  much  of  it 
has  been  sown  ?  And  a  few — passing  few — sow  abundantly. 
They  are  rich  in  grace,  and  in  the  great  beyond  they  have 
a  good  reward  for  all  their  labor.  They  will  come  up  in 
"  that  day"  with  joy,  and  bearing  their  sheaves  with  them. 

What  an  auspicious  hour  is  this  for  sowing  money!  How 
can  we  keep  it  back  in  this  spring-time  of  godly  opportu- 
nity when  the  world,  so  long  fallow,  is  being  broken  up, 
and  when  mission  fields,  colleges,  and  chur?hes,  and  the 
poor,  are  calling  for  liberal  and  open-handed  devisings. 


FROM  GRACE  TO  GRACE, 


THE  BIRTH  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 

ONE  of  the  greatest  hinderances  to  the  realization  of  this 
experience  lies  in  its  supposed  identity  or  connection 
with  outward  rites  and  ordinances.  If  once  persuaded  that 
it  is  no  more  than  baptism,  or  that  it  is  conferred  by  the 
imposition  of  hands  or  the  reception  of  a  sacrament,  the 
matter  is  forestalled,  and  an  actual,  conscious  change  of 
heart  is  no  longer  thought  of  If  ordinances  are  the  chan- 
nels through  which  the  Spirit  is  communicated,  there  is  no 
need  of  any  further  trouble.  This  is  a  delusion  which 
blocks  the  way  to  a  genuine  scriptural  regeneration  w^ith 
many.  They  have  been  baptized,  they  have  received  the 
sacraments  of  the  Church,  and  in  this  they  rest,  pcrsuatied 
that  whatever  is  meant  by  the  birth  of  the  Spirit  has  been 
attained  through  the  ordinances  of  the  gospel.  The  very 
first  step  toward  realizing  the  new  birth  is  to  get  clear  from 
this  most  fatal  error,  and  to  escape  from  this  most  foolish 
entanglement.  Whatever  the  birth  of  M'ater  may  mean, 
the  birth  of  the  Spirit  is  something  distinct  from  it.  The 
Saviour  therefore  declares:  "  Except  a  man  be  born  of  wa- 
ter and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God."  If  the  water  necessarily  involved  the  Spirit,  or  if  its 
application  secured  the  Spirit's  operation,  it  was  needless  for 
the  Saviour  to  add  "  and  of  the  Spirit."  The  two  births 
are  as  clearly  separated  and  distinguished  as  it  is  possible. 
Water  baptism  is  not  enough;  ordinances,  in  themselves, 
come  short  of  the  requirement;  there  must  be,  beyond  and 
independent  of  it,  the  direct  and  transforming  work  of  the 

(303) 


M-i  The  Editor-Bishop. 

Holy  Spirit.  John  the  Baptist  exhibits  the  same  doctrine 
substantially  when  he  contrasts  his  baptism  with  water  with 
that  higher  baptism  of  Christ:  "He  shall  baptize  you  with 
the  Holy  Ghost,  and  with  fire."  That  Christ's  purpose  was 
to  distinguish  and  separate  the  water  from  the  Spirit  is  evi- 
dent from  the  further  fact  that  he  contrasts  the  spiritual 
with  the  natural  birth,  and  dwells  with  emphasis  upon  the 
necessity  of  being  born  of  the  Spirit. 

If  the  inquirer  is  happily  free  from  this  confusion  of  ideas 
about  the  import  of  ordinances,  he  may  find  difficulty  in 
distinguishing  the  birth  of  the  Spirit  from  those  conditions 
of  mind  and  feeling  which  do  not  imply  it.  He  is  already 
leading  a  moral  life  as  blameless  and  upright  as  was  Nico- 
demus.  Possibly  he  is  a  member  of  the  Church,  and  in- 
structed in  the  doctrines  and  practices  of  religion.  Must 
such  a  one  be  born  again,  or  is  he  already  a  subject  of  con- 
verting  grace?  Here,  at  least,  was  a  good  man  and  sincere 
who  knew  nothing  about  this  birth  from  above.  Nicodemus, 
with  all  his  goodness,  with  all  his  candor  and  simplicity  of 
mind,  had  yet  to  experience  it.  Precisely  how  good  a  man 
may  be  in  amiability  of  character,  in  the  performance  of 
religious  duties,  and  in  concern  for  salvation,  without  being 
converted,  it  is  not  easy  to  determine.  A  man  may  be  not 
far  from  the  kingdom  of  God  and  not  be  in  it.  The  king- 
dom may  come  nigh  to  us  without  coming  in  and  possessing 
the  heart.  Doubtless  there  are  multitudes  who  need  the  en- 
forcement of  this  "must"  upon  their  consciences,  who  are 
resting  in  the  mistaken  persuasion  that  they  are  all  that 
God  requires  them  to  be.  Nicodemus  was  a  religious,  a 
moral,  an  upright  man,  but  the  birth  of  the  Spirit  was  for 
him  something  yet  to  be  felt.  It  is  a  subject,  therefore,  for 
moral  and  religious  people  to  ponder — a  text  to  be  expound- 
ed to  Church-members  as  well  as  to  others.  That  they  are 
born  again  is  hardly  to  be  taken  for  granted,  as  there  may 


From  Grace  to  Grace.         305 

be  abundance  of  morality   and  religion  without  spiritu- 
ality. 

Then,  again,  the  mystery  connected  with  the  direct  oper- 
ations of  the  Spirit  is  a  hinderance  in  the  way  of  some. 
This,  however,  is  not  so  great  a  mystery  as  the  supposed  ef- 
ficacy of  baptism  to  regenerate,  or  that  any  moral  change  is 
effected  by  ordinances.  The  "  how  "  is  at  least  just  as  diffi- 
cult and  incomprehensible  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other. 
But  the  direct  operation  of  the  Spirit  is  only  one  of  count- 
less mysteries.  "The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and 
thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth ;  so  is  every  one  that  is  born 
of  the  Sptrit."  The  supernatural  is  insisted  upon.  Illus- 
trated perhaps  by  the  natural,  but  supernatural  still.  The 
fact  is  matter  of  experience — something  recognized  in  its 
effects  to  be  perceived  and  felt  in  the  spiritual  nature  as 
clearly  as  we  hear  and  feel  the  movements  of  the  air  we 
breathe.  Beyond  this  we  are  not  required  to  go.  The  su- 
pernatural and  divine  are  in  religion,  and  their  manifesta- 
tions are  in  the  wonderful  change  wrought  in  the  soul. 

As  there  is  no  abatement  of  the  mystery,  so  there  is  none 
of  the  necessity  of  this  spiritual  birth.  It  is  a  marvel,  and 
yet  we  are  not  to  marvel  at  it.  We  can  neither  see  nor  en- 
ter the  kingdom  without  it.  Beyond  the  natural  birth,  be- 
yond all  ordinances,  is  this  inexorable  necessity.  The  new 
creature  in  Christ  must  be  realized.  Nor  is  this  insisted 
upon  without  reason.  It  is  no  arbitrary  condition,  but  of 
essential  fitness  for  heaven.  It  is  the  supplement  to  the  doc- 
trine of  human  depravity,  and  the  complement  of  our  par- 
don or  justification  through  faith  in  the  blood  of  Christ. 
Pardon  simply  places  us  in  a  new  relation  to  God ;  the  birth 
of  the  Spirit  is  the  production  cf  a  new  character  and  nat- 
ure suited  to  the  new  relation.  "That  which  is  born  of  the 
flesh  is  flesh."  This  sinful  nature  nmst  be  renovated.  The 
20 


306  The  Editor-Bishop. 

natural  man  must  give  place  to  the  spiritual.  The  carnal 
mind,  with  its  enmity  to  God,  with  its  rebellion  and  its 
earthly  and  sensual  attributes,  must  be  overcome  and  made 
pure.  The  necessity  lies  deep  in  our  fallen  nature  and  in 
the  utter  corruption  of  the  human  heart.  The  Saviour,  in 
expounding  the  doctrine,  sets  it  forth  in  its  singleness  and 
simplicity.  He  took  down  the  old  picture,  stripped  it  of  its 
fi-aming,  restored  the  coloring,  and  hung  it  out  in  the  clear 
light  of  his  own  all-powerful  rays.  Divested  of  all  types 
and  symbols,  the  truth  starts  from  the  canvas :  "  Ye  must  be 
born  again." 

AFTER  CONVERSION. 

The  converted  man  is  a  child  of  God.  He  is  in  Christ 
Jesus,  and  is  born  of  the  Spirit.  Before  conversion  he  was 
in  a  state  of  darkness  and  sin;  but  "there  is,  therefore, now 
no  condemnation  to  them  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who 
walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit."  Speaking  of 
justification  and  peace  with  God  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  Paul  declares:  "By  whom  also  we  have  access  by 
faith  into  this  grace  wherein  we  stand,  and  rejoice  in  hope 
of  the  glory  of  God."  The  converted  man  stands  in  this 
grace  of  justification  and  peace — the  state  of  pardon  and 
regeneration — and  rejoices  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God. 
"He  is  a  new  creature;  old  things  are  passed  away;  behold, 
all  things  are  become  new." 

At  the  threshold  of  this  new  experience  there  is  much  ig- 
norance in  regard  to  many  tilings — ignorance  of  many  re- 
ligious duties,  of  many  of  the  precepts  and  doctrines  of  the 
Bible.  It  is  a  mercy  that  sinners  may  be  converted  who 
are  ignorant;  but  to  stand  in  the  grace  of  conversion  they 
must  be  instructed,  they  must  grow  in  grace  and  in  the 
J^nowledge  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     Without  this,  they 


Feom  Grace  to  Gkace.  307 


will  die  spiritually  as  certainly  as  will  a  tree  that  has  been 
set  in  a  dry  and  sterile  soil.  At  the  beginning  of  this  new 
life  there  is  ignorance  of  many  of  the  duties  of  the  Chris- 
tian profession.  If  these  are  not  sought  out  and  performed 
there  will  be  an  imperfect  and  weak  development  of  spir- 
ituality, and  possibly  the  loss  of  it  altogether.  A  way  to 
stand  and  to  grow  is  to  bravely  take  up  the  cross  as  a  wit- 
ness for  Christ,  and  to  work  from  life  and  also  for  it.  The 
lack  of  the  meditative  element  in  piety  is  very  serious,  but 
at  the  same  time  spiritual  religion  thrives  on  exercise,  and 
cannot  well  live  without  it. 

If  the  glow  of  love  does  not  at  once  incite  to  active  en- 
deavor and  find  something  to  do,  it  will  soon  pass  away. 
The  discharge  of  duty  is  generally  the  first  and  often  the 
severest  test  of  the  new  convert.  Many  never  get  beyond 
it.  They  fall  at  the  beginning  of  the  race.  They  resist  the 
conviction  that  they  ought  to  have  family  prayers,  that  they 
ought  to  pray  and  speak  in  the  social  meetings,  or  that  they 
ought  to  work  in  the  Sunday-school.  Here  they  fall  into 
condemnation,  and  by  degrees  the  comfort  of  the  Spirit  is 
lost. 

The  new  convert  is  familiar  with  the  temptations  that  be- 
set him  as  a  sinner,  but  his  probation  as  a  child  of  God  is 
something  unlike  what  it  was  before.  He  is  now  tried  as  a 
Christian.  His  fidelity  to  Christ  and  to  his  vows  is  to  be 
tested,  and  his  love  and  faith  and  patience  are  to  be  assault- 
ed. These  assaults  may  come  through  the  fleshly  appetites, 
through  the  blandishments  of  worldly  pleasures,  through 
the  allurements  of  wealth.  There  is  special  danger  at  the 
points  where  sin  was  intrenched  and  fortified  by  long  habits. 
It  may  be  in  a  temper  long  unbridled,  in  intemperance 
long  indulged,  in  profanity  strengthened  by  years,  in  ava- 
rice that  has  become  the  rooted  habit  of  the  soul.  Igno- 
rant as  the  young  convert  b  in  regard  to  the  temptatidlifi 


308  The  Editor-Bishop. 

which  are  to  be  encountered  by  him,  there  is  for  him  a  pe- 
culiar peril.  It  is  well  if  he  learns  from  his  Bible  and 
from  more  experienced  Christians  to  be  on  his  guard  in 
time.  The  chain  which  held  him  a  captive  as  a  sinner  is 
the  one  that  Satan  will  likely  uSe  in  his  recapture. 

"While  there  is  danger  of  falling  into  old  habits  of  sin,  the 
greater  temptation  with  some  may  be  to  distrust  their  con- 
version, or  to  doubt  the  reality  of  a  supernatural  or  divine 
work  in  the  heart.  The  devil  shoots  arrows  of  fire  at  the 
believer.  If  he  cannot  seduce  him  by  the  enticements  of 
appetite,  the  lusts  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life,  he  will 
attack  and  endeavor  to  undermine  his  faith.  The  converted 
man  is  under  conditions  of  temptation  stronger  and  more 
subtle  than  those  which  surround  him  as  a  sinner.  He  was 
on  probation  as  to  accepting  the  grace  of  God ;  he  is  now  on 
trial  as  to  persevering  in  it.  In  the  divine  economy  this 
trial,  with  its  sufferings  and  afflictions,  is  calculated  to  de- 
velop character  and  to  bring  out  the  Christian  graces  in 
their  harmony  and  perfection;  but  it  may  result  in  our  spir- 
itual overthrow. 

It  is  remarkable  how  much  attention  is  bestowed  upon  the 
converted  by  the  inspired  writers.  It  is  not  enough  that 
men  be  converted.  They  must  be  instructed,  nourished  up 
in  sound  doctrine,  warned,  fed.  "  Feed  the  flock  of  God  " 
is  the  inspired  injunction.  The  sheep  will  perish  if  not  fed. 
Converted  though  he  be,  a  child  of  God  and  a  new  creature 
in  Christ,  the  young  convert  is  ignorant  of  the  duties  and 
dangers  of  the  situation.  The  grace  of  Christ  is  sufficient 
to  keep  him  holy  and  unblamable,  but  there  is  peril.  It 
will  take  all  watchfulness,  all  prayer,  all  Bible  study,  all  the 
means  of  grace  within  his  reach,  to  enable  him  to  overcome. 
In  some  important  sense  the  righteous  are  scarcely  saved. 

Many  persons  fall  into  sin  afler  conversion;  their  con- 
sciences condemn  them,  and  there  is  repentance  and  an  im- 


From  Grace  to  Grace.  309 

mediate  sense  of  the  restoration  of  the  divine  favor.  **  He 
restoreth  my  soul"  is  a  blessed  truth,  and  there  are  few  be- 
lievers who  have  not  had  occasion  to  realize  it  in  their  own 
experience.  If  for  any  cause  there  is  a  sense  of  sin  and 
condemnation,  instead  of  covering  our  sin  the  instant  duty 
and  privilege  are  to  fly  to  the  fountain  opened  for  sin  and 
uncleanncss. 

There  are  also  those  who  are  permanent  backsliders — dead 
branches  in  the  Church.  Their  spiritual  life  is  gone  out, 
leaving  nothing  but  the  fruitless  form  of  godliness.  They 
are  not  led  by  the  Spirit — the  witnessof  the  Spirit  is  lost;  the 
traces  of  their  conversion,  as  a  spiritual  change,  are  nearly 
obliterated.  If  finally  saved,  it  must  be  by  a  fresh  awaken- 
ing, and  by  a  renewed  and  deep  repentance,  and  by  faith  in 
the  crucified  Redeemer.  Fearful  as  the  sin  of  backsliding 
is,  the  mercy,  even  the  tender  mercy,  of  God  hovers  over  the 
backslider,  and  the  promises  of  the  gospel  linger  about  him. 
Among  the  profoundest  sleepers  to  be  awakened  are  these 
backsliders — those  who  have  a  name  to  live  and  are  dead. 
They  were  converted,  but  they  are  now  fallen  from  grace. 
They  need  special  attention  and  a  special  message.  The  dev- 
il's first  lie  to  our  race  is  the  one  he  sticks  to  most  persistent- 
ly:  "Ye  shall  not  surely  die."  Beguiled  by  the  serpent,  and 
deaf  to  the  divine  warnings,  the  forbidden  fruit  is  plucked, 
and  the  glory  fades  from  the  soul. 

Neither  sin  nor  backsliding,  however,  necessarily  follow 
conversion.  There  are  and  have  been  many  beautiful  lives 
whose  path  is  like  the  shining  light — shining  more  and  more 
unto  the  perfect  day.  The  inward  light  has  grown  steadily 
brighter,  and  the  outward  life  has  risen  higher  and  higher 
in  its  sublime  purity  and  consecration.  And,  however  it 
may  be  in  regard  to  inward  sins  immediately  repented  of, 
the  numbers  who  from  the  hour  of  their  conversion  live 
holy  and  exemplary  lives  are  great.     It  is  the  Christian's 


olO  The  Editor-Bishop. 

duty  and  privilege  never  to  lose  the  sense  of  acceptance  with 
God,  and  never  consciously  to  fall  into  condemnation.  If 
•we  believe  in  a  lower  experience,  we  are  likely  to  have  it. 
If  we  go  about  disparaging  the  grace  of  God,  expect  nothing 
better  than  a  perpetual  backsliding  and  a  perpetual  repent- 
ing, and  look  for  death  to  put  an  end  to  sin,  we  shall  not 
taste  the  bliss  of  a  full  salvation.  Christ  came  to  save,  and 
he  is  able  to  save.  The  converted  man  is  a  saved  man,  and 
it  is  his  privilege  to  live  with  the  sense  of  being  cleansed 
from  sin  by  the  blood  of  Christ.  This  sense  of  entire  cleans- 
ing, of  near  and  unbroken  communion  with  God,  this  re- 
joicing in  hope  and  rapture  of  love,  are  a  part  of  every-day 
relieion. 


THE  SPIRITUAL  FACE. 

The  light  in  the  soul  transfigures  the  countenance.  "A 
man's  wisdom  maketh  his  face  to  shine."  In  a  literal  as 
well  as  in  a  figurative  sense,  David  says,  "  Who  is  the  health 
of  my  countenance?"  The  inward  change  was  manifest  in 
the  outward  expression.  The  Saviour's  countenance  was  or- 
dinarily luminous,  we  may  suppose,  but  the  glory  was  ob- 
scured except  in  the  solitary  instance  on  the  mount,  when 
its  complete  effulgence  was  displayed  to  the  wondering  three. 
I.Ioses  exhibited  the  effects  of  near  communion  with  God 
when  he  came  down  into  the  encampment  with  the  divine 
beams  playing  upon  his  brow.  It  was  the  fullness  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  in  Stephen  that  gave  to  him  that  heavenly  light 
Avhich  arrested  the  attention  of  his  malignant  judges  when 
they  "saw  his  face  as  it  had  been  the  face  of  an  angel." 
Phenomena  akin  to  these  are  seen  in  ordinary  conversions. 
The  face  before  and  afler  conversion  exhibits  marked  con- 
trasts. The  moral  change  is  written  upon  the  visible  feat- 
ures.    The  transition  from,  darkness  to  light  is  seen  in  the 


From  Grace  to  Grace.  311 

outward  expression.  Peace  and  joy  flood  and  irradiate  the 
countenance  which  but  lately  was  darkened  and  cast  down 
by  guilt  and  despair.  In  a  revival  meeting  it  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  pick  out  those  who  are  still  seeking  from  those  who 
have  found  the  pearl  of  great  price.  Ordinarily  the  face 
tells  the  story  where  there  arc  no  audible  expressions  of 
contrition  or  of  rapture. 

The  countenance  of  the  mature  Christian  bears  in  its  lin- 
eaments the  spirituality  which  reigns  in  the  heart.  There 
is  a  light  and  a  sweetness  in  such  a  face  which  distinguish 
it  from  those  who  have  never  experienced  the  renewing  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  In  a  mixed  assembly,  or  in  the  throngs  on 
the  street,  we  imagine  that  we  discern  the  mark  which  God 
has  set  upon  his  children.  As  in  the  prophet's  vision  the 
man  with  a  writer's  ink-horn  set  a  mark  upon  the  foreheads 
of  the  faithful,  and  as  in  the  apocalyptic  scene  an  angel  as- 
cending from  the  east  "  sealed  the  servants  of  our  God  in 
their  foreheads,"  so  it  is  now.  Spiritual  people  have  the  seal 
in  their  foreheads.  There  is  something  in  the  face  which  an- 
swers to  the  purity  and  love  glowing  within.  The  power 
of  grace  to  transform  the  face  is  something  wonderful  as 
seen  in  the  conversion  of  adults.  The  marks  of  grossnets 
and  lust,  the  sharp,  cold  lines  of  covetousness,  the  ardent 
but  unsatisfied  desire  of  pleasure,  the  almost  diabolical 
touches  of  selfishness  and  malignancy,  the  clouded  and 
burning  traces  of  fierce  passions  and  unholy  tempere,  are 
swept  away,  and  give  place  to  a  benevolent  and  sunny  com- 
posure. It  is  the  difference  between  the  mountain  rocked 
by  volcanic  throes,  scorched  by  tides  of  burning  lava,  and 
covered  with  ashes  and  scoria?,  and  the  mountain  whose  base 
and  sides  are  clothed  with  harvests,  orchards,  and  gardens, 
and  whose  top  towers  in  restful  sublimity  above  the  clouds. 
The  beauty  of  childhood  is  greatly  owing  to  the  spirituality 
that  is  in  it.    Vice  and  ungoverned  passion  have  not  yet 


312  The  Editob-Bishop. 


carved  their  ugly  lines  upon  the  face,  nor  stamped  it  with 
the  dark  and  repulsive  hues  of  conscious  guilt.  A  congre- 
gation of  children  impresses  us  with  the  innocence  and  spir- 
ituality which  speak  in  their  happy  looks.  Such  a  scene 
of  upturned  faces  is  like  a  lake  of  rippling  wavelets  respond- 
ing in  manifold  forms  of  beauty  to  the  breeze  and  sunshine 
which  play  upon  them. 

The  countenance  indicates  the  various  types  and  degrees 
of  piety.  The  expression  is  often  variable  as  the  inward 
condition  changes.  It  is  often  mixed  in  the  conflicts,  the 
depressions,  and  the  triumphs  of  faith.  The  stern  and  as- 
cetic, the  deeply  emotional,  the  cheerful  and  sympathetic, 
the  peaceful  and  loving,  like  so  many  styles  of  art,  put  their 
several  characteristics  upon  the  canvas.  "  The  I^ast  Sup- 
per "  is  an  endeavor  to  exhibit  these  types  as  they  surround 
the  great  original  and  perfection  of  holiness.  What  the 
painter  attempted  with  his  pencil  is  in  fact  being  done  upon 
Christian  faces.  AVe  have  thought  that  denominational 
types  are  more  or  less  revealed  in  the  countenance.  In  a 
union  prayer-meeting  the  faces,  not  less  than  the  utterances, 
are  tinged  with  the  peculiar  theologies.  The  stanch  advo- 
cate of  predestination,  the  conscientious  stickler  for  immer- 
sion, the  emotional  Arminian,  the  lover  of  prelacy  and  lit- 
urgies, have  their  several  creeds  graven  upon  their  faces, 
while  the  sheen  of  a  common  Saviour's  love  softens  and  sub- 
dues the  rugged  featu  res  of  sectarian  conviction.  The  Meth- 
odist, the  Presbyterian,  the  Baptist,  the  Episcopalian,  with 
good  and  wholesome  faces  all,  have  each  their  distinctive 
physiognomy.  A  Lavater  or  a  Spurzheim  might  have  seen 
this  had  their  studies  taken  this  direction. 

The  spiritual  face  is  perhaps  most  marked  in  women. 
Naturally  more  beautiful  and  spiritual  than  men,  they 
rightfully  claim  a  nearer  kinship  to  the  angels.  The  high- 
er and  finer  organization,  with  its  deeper  and  truer  intui- 


Fbom  Grace  to  Grace.  313 


tions,  and  with  its  more  delicate  and  refined  sensibilities, 
gives  to  womanhood  this  spiritual  preeminence.  The  work 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  woman  is  most  perfectly  reflected  in 
her  face.  Her  features  are  singularly  plastic  and  mobile, 
and  yield  readily  to  the  transforming  power  within.  Her 
face  to  her  spiritually  is  as  the  photosphere  to  tile  sun.  Un- 
der the  influence  of  religion  it  is  not  merely  a  beauty,  but  a 
glory.  We  do  not  hesitate  to  give  Christian  women  the 
preeminence  in  all  the  attributes  of  real  beauty;  nor  is 
there  any  doubt  that  this  preeminence  is  due  to  their  spirit- 
uality. 

The  spiritual  face  alone  improves  with  age.  The  work  is 
nearer  completion  as  time  advances,  and  the  silvered  head 
and  the  wrinkled  brow  have  the  gentleness  and  mellowness 
of  the  tranquil  and  golden  autumn.  We  remember  our 
sainted  fathers  and  mothers  as  being  lovely  to  the  last.  It 
was  the  spiritual  in  them  shining  more  and  more  to  the  per- 
fect day.  Their  decrepitude  and  decay  were  transfigured 
by  the  glory  which,  in  angel  forms,  was  about  to  be  set  free 
forever. 


THE  GLORY  IN  US. 

The  "far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory" 
is  doubtless  "the  glory  which  shall  be  revealed  in  us."  In 
both  passages  the  glory  is  connected  with  "our  light  aflflic- 
tions"  and  "  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time."  "  Revealed 
in  us."  There  is  a  wide  difference  between  what  shall  be 
revealed  to  us  and  what  shall  be  revealed  in  us.  What  is 
out  of  us  is  clearly  to  be  separated  from  what  may  be  with- 
in. There  is  an  outward  and  an  inward  glory.  Material 
things — as  the  heavens  and  the  firmament — declare  the  glo- 
ry of  God,  and  this  exhibition  of  the  divine  handiwork  is 
entirely  external  to  ourselves.     Whatever  the  things  which 


314  The  Editor-Bishop. 

are  seen  declare,  are  revealed  to  us.  We  may  apply  the 
same  rule  to  the  disclosures  of  the  heavenly  state.  Even 
in  material  objects  the  present  visible  world  is  scarcely  an 
earnest  of  the  beautiful  and  sublime  which  invest  the  scen- 
ery of  the  incorruptible  inheritance.  Besides  all  the  ex- 
ternal adornments,  there  are  manifestations  of  intelligence 
in  the  persons  and  forms  of  angels;  and  God  himself  is  ex- 
hibited in  the  symbols  of  an  indescribable  splendor.  The 
glory  revealed  to  us  is  thus  distinctly  conceivable — some- 
thing as  much  external  to  us  in  heaven  as  are  fields  and 
stars  and  mountains  here  on  the  earth. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  glory  within  must  be  removed 
from  the  sensuous  and  from  objects  and  persons  external  to 
the  soul.  It  is  spiritual,  and  relates  to  the  thoughts,  tem- 
pers, and  affections.  It  is  a  spirit  divested  of  sin,  disen- 
thralled, and  born  from  above.  Here  is  something  more 
beautiful  than  any  landscape,  earthly  or  heavenly — a  soul 
reaching  purity  through  the  baptism  of  trouble  and  death, 
and  renewed  by  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  This  defines 
the  connection  between  present  suffering  and  future  happi- 
ness. It  is  not  simply  a  contrast  arbitrarily  established, 
nor  loss  and  compensation,  nor  reward  bestowe<l,  though  all 
of  these  may  appear  in  the  result.  Certain  causes  are  de- 
scribed as  associated  w'ith  this  gracious  end.  They  work  for 
us,  and  are  the  conditions  of  the  glory  to  be  revealed  in  us. 
AVe  know  that  no  such  result  is  necessarily  attached  to  af- 
fliction. The  greatest  sufferers  here  are  not  the  greatest 
saints,  nor  are  earthly  troubles  always  followed  by  the  rest 
which  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God.  Submissive  faith 
converts  sorrow  into  a  blessing  and  makes  it  the  means  of 
developing  every  Christian  grace,  while  without  faith  the 
sorrow  of  the  Avorld  worketh  only  death. 

The  glory  in  us  is  therefore  a  present  glory,  although  not 
altogether  revealed.     It  is  perhaps  incomplete — in  the  con- 


From  Grace  to  Grace.        315 

dition  of  being  wrought,  and  preparing  to  break  forth  and 
cast  off  the  shell  of  chrysalis.  The  finishing  touches  of  a 
disciplinary  providence  are  yet  to  be  given,  and  the  picture 
awaits  the  final  pencilings  wliich  are  to  give  it  the  stamp  of 
perfection.  While  the  believer  is  conscious  of  the  great 
work  which  is  going  forward  in  the  soul,  the  veil  of  incom- 
pleteness hangs  over  it,  and  he  cannot  now  realize  its  nature 
and  grandeur.  The  treasure  is  in  earthen  vessels,  and  the 
frailties  of  nature  darken  the  luster  of  the  inward  life.  Com- 
parative obscurity  invests  the  righteous  as  they  are  seen  and 
judged  by  the  world.  It  is  in  the  final  day  that  they  shall 
"shine  forth  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father."  But  it  is 
equally  true  that  now  the  actual  glory  already  in  the  soul 
is  in  a  state  of  eclipse  to  our  own  consciousness.  We  can 
see  in  others  qualities  of  virtue  and  excellence  which  they 
do  not  see  themselves,  and  others  may  behold  in  us  the  ex- 
hibition of  graces  which  we  can  hardly  j>ei'suade  ourselves 
to  have  any  existence. 

The  sanctified  cause  throws  over  the  soul  a  cloud  which 
conceals  from  us  what  is  being  effected.  Suffering  depresses 
while  it  continues,  and  temptations  excite  self-distrust  and 
humiliation.  We  are  wrapped  in  the  smoke  and  flame  of 
the  refining  fire,  and  the  present  effect  is  to  show  us  the  al- 
loy and  drosses  rather  than  the  fine  gold.  It  is  perhaps 
God's  wise  purpose  now  to  manifest  in  us  what  is  evil  and 
not  what  is  good.  Vile  and  sinful  qualities  are  displayed 
to  the  conscience  in  the  light  of  his  countenance  that  they 
may  be  overcome  and  destroyed,  while  the  surpassing  attain- 
ments of  holiness  are  shaded  and  placed  in  a  subdued  light 
for  the  present.  If  in  this  life  there  is  a  sanctified  state 
wherein  we  emerge  from  this  atmosphere  of  dust  and  smoke 
and  conflict,  and  wherein  we  bask  in  the  complacency  of  a 
pure  heart,  even  here  the  fullness  of  the  glory  must  be 
shrouded  in  a  considerable  degree.    "  Beloved,  now  are  we 


316  The  Editor-Bishop. 

the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall 
be."  For  the  present  our  sonship  is  manifest,  and  we  arc 
assured  by  the  Holy  Ghost  and  confirmed  therein  by  the 
witness  of  our  own  spirit.  What  we  are  we  shall  be,  for 
death  neither  begins  nor  finishes  the  work  of  grace. 

It  is  this  revelation  of  the  glory  in  us  that  is  presented  as 
a  matter  of  experience  in  the  future  life.  Now  it  may  be 
neither  expedient  nor  possible.  There  awaits  us  a  Avonder- 
ful  inward  as  well  as  outward  revelation — an  apocalypse  of 
the  soul  in  the  unfolding  of  the  redeemed  and  sanctified 
powers  and  attainments  to  our  own  amazed  consciousness. 
It  is  this  fact  which  bridges  over  the  apparently  great  and 
violent  transition  from  earth  to  heaven.  Without  this  in- 
ward glory  the  outward  would  oppress  and  overwhelm. 
Without  it  the  fellowship  of  angels  would  abash  and  the 
divine  presence  would  utterly  confound.  The  glory  in  us  is 
revealed  just  Avhere  it  is  needed  to  place  us  in  accord  with 
the  heavenly  state  and  to  break  the  overpowering  shock  of 
what  would  be  otherwise  an  abrupt  and  fearful  transition. 
It  is  not  unusual  to  find  a  certain  sense  of  unreadiness  in 
the  most  exemplary  Christians,  which  yields  to  assurance 
and  triumph  only  in  the  last  hours  of  life.  There  the  ob- 
scurity gives  way,  and  the  inward  glory  begins  to  brighten 
and  to  assert  the  presence  of  an  adequate  preparation  lor 
the  final  change. 

The  religion  of  forms  and  external  rites  vanishes  before 
this  conception  of  the  glory  in  us.  The  kingdom  of  God  is 
within  us.  It  cometh  not  with  observation,  nor  is  it  tied  to 
visible  temples  and  sacraments.  Neither  are  the  manifes- 
tations of  heaven  things  to  be  gazed  upon  and  wondered  at 
as  men  now  look  upon  the  altars  and  frescoes  of  a  cathedral. 
What  is  awful,  spiritual,  and  divine  is  within.  There  will 
be  nothing  in  heaven,  apart  from  God,  so  glorious  as  the 
pure  heart;  and  of  all  the  revelations  which  shall  come 


From  Grace  to  Grace.  317 


pealing  upon  the  ear  and  flashing  upon  the  eye,  there  will 
be  nothing  to  compare  with  "the  glory  revealed  in  us." 


SHINING  MORE  AND  MORE. 

The  path  of  the  just,  in  a  worldly  sense,  often  grows 
darker  as  time  passes  on.  Misfortunes  and  disappointments 
thioken  around  him.  Death  is  a  door  opportunely  opened, 
through  which  he  escapes  from  earthly  troulble.  It  is  not 
the  lot  of  the  good  to  be  eminently  prosperous,  nor  is  suc- 
cess in  temporal  affairs  the  sure  sign  and  seal  of  divine  fa- 
vor. But  in  the  spiritual  sphere  it  is  true  that  the  path  of 
the  just  shines  "more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 
Even  in  trouble  and  affliction  there  is  a  steadier  and  bright- 
er light.  These  are  better  understood,  and  are  sanctified, 
and  there  is  greater  strength  and  consolation  attending 
them. 

•  In  no  other  respect  is  there  more  progress  in  the  good 
man's  life  of  faith  than  in  the  light  which  is  shed  upon  his 
trials.  Once  they  nearly  overwhelmed  him,  staggered  his 
confidence  in  God,  and  led  him  to  think  that  he  was  mis- 
taken in  his  religious  experience.  All  was  wrapped  in  mys- 
tery, and  he  walked  in  the  darkness  with  a  fearful  heart 
and  with  trembling  steins.  The  pathway  of  sorrow  is  no 
longer  one  of  gloom  and  despair.  The  cloud  has  become 
luminous,  and  the  Father's  voice  is  heard  speaking  out  of 
it  in  tones  of  assurance  and  love. 

Things  that  in  the  earlier  experience  gave  much  anxiety 
and  disturbed  the  repose  of  the  soul  are  no  longer  sources 
of  uneasiness  and  distrust.  As  the  stream  grows  deeper  it 
is  less  easily  ruffled  by  the  passing  storm  and  less  easily 
turned  from  its  course  by  the  obstacles  which  oppose  its 
progress. 

There  is  growth  in  this  respect :  that  the  religious  life  is 


318  The  Editor-Bishop. 

more  uniform  under  the  pressure  of  temptation,  and  that 
the  peace  of  the  heart  has  become  too  profound  to  be  shaken 
by  outward  conditions  and  circumstances.  It  has  come  to 
be  that  peace  which  flows  as  a  river,  even  the  peace  of  God 
w  hich  passeth  all  understanding.  When  the  affections  have 
b^en  set  on  things  above,  earthly  things  have  lost  their  pow- 
er to  absorb  and  enslave,  and  also  to  bring  anxiety  and  per- 
turba^tion  of  spirit.  The  mature  Christian  looks  back  with 
Avonder  upon  his  earlier  years  and  the  many  needless  dis- 
tractions to  which  he  yielded. 

In  the  substantial  elements  of  religious  enjoyment  there 
is  the  growing  brightness  of  truth  and  assurance.  This  is 
connected  with  a  broader  intelligence,  with  a  more  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  word  of  God,  and  with  a  juster  compre- 
hension of  the  nature  and  reason  of  doctrine  and  experi- 
ence. The  Christian  should  become  happier  in  his  religion 
as  he  grows  older  in  years.  If  converted  in  his  youth,  there 
were  then  no  worldly  cares,  and  many  phases  of  temptation 
were  unknown.  As  time  wears  on,  occupation,  contact  with 
the  world,  the  struggle  for  success  in  business,  a  dependent 
family,  and  accumulating  labors  and  afflictions,  all  come  to 
test  the  faith.  The  conditions  are  dffferent  in  the  outward 
life,  but  the  inward  power  of  grace  is  stronger  than  ever, 
and  the  path,  however  environed  with  earthly  shadows  and 
responsibilities,  is  in  reality  shining  more  and  more. 

The  struggle  with  temptation  is  marked  by  increase  of 
power  over  solicitations  to  evil.  Instead  of  humiliation 
and  defeat,  there  is  victory.  The  temper  is  brought  under 
control,  the  appetites  are  mastered,  the  affections  are  com- 
pletely purified,  and  communion  with  God  is  close  and  ha- 
bitual. There  is  a  perfect  day  to  the  believing  soul  in  this 
world — a  progress  which  is  unto  it.  Not  the  perfect  day 
of  heaven,  but  the  perfect  day  of  love ;  a  heavenly-minded- 
ness  and  a  surpassing  spirituality;  a  maturity  of  all  the 


From  Grace  to  Grace.  319 

plants  of  grace  and  a  sky  of  faith  serene  and  cloudless. 
This  is  as  it  should  be — ^as  it  may  be.  It  is  so  with  the 
faithful  disciple  of  the  Saviour.  Christ  is  the  light  of  the 
world,  and  if  any  man  follow  him  "  he  shall  not  walk  in 
darkness."  Wrong  living,  neglect  of  duty,  worldly-mind- 
edness,  may  darken  the  path.  Shadows  projected  by  unbe- 
lief, deepened  and  perpetuated  by  sinful  indulgence,  may 
ol^cure  the  way  which  was  once  delightful  and  joyous.  The 
darkness  will  grow  thicker  unless  the  cause  be  speedily  re- 
moved. There  is  progress  both  ways — toward  the  perfect 
day  and  also  toward  the  rayless  night ;  unto  the  perfection 
of  happiness  or  the  depths  of  misery.  One  way  or  the  oth- 
er are  we  tending.  It  is  well  for  us  to  pause  and  consider, 
to  examine  our  reckonings  and  to  take  the  sun.  Is  our  re- 
ligious life  waxing  or  waning?  onward  and  vigorous,  or  is 
it  halting  and  feeble?  Are  we  in  the  path  that  shines  more 
and  more,  or  are  we  in  the  road  that  thickens  with  gloom  at 
every  step?  Religion  begins  with  light  and  ends  in  light. 
Bright  at  first,  it  shines  more  and  more. 


THE  LIKES  OF  THE  KINGDOM. 


INSPIRED  COMPARISONS. 

THE  scriptural  method  of  teaching  is  usually  very 
concrete.  Its  historical'  and  biograpliical  scenes  and 
sketches  are  to  instruct,  and  its  parables  and  metaphors 
make  up  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  the  sacred  volume. 
God,  who  made  the  soul  and  knows  best  how  to  move  and 
inform  it,  has  largely  adopted  types,  symbols,  and  all  vari- 
eties of  figures.  Such  imagery  as  abounds  in  the  most  im- 
passioned eloquence,  and  in  the  highest  kinds  of  poetry, 
illuminate  and  embellish  the  inspired  page.  Abundant 
illustration  characterizes  the  Saviour's  teachings.  He  is  at 
great  pains  to  unfold  what  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like. 
It  is  like  leaven,  like  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  like  unto  a 
man  that  is  a  householder.  It  is  likened  unto  a  certain 
king  which  would  take  account  of  his  servants,  and  unto 
ten  virgins  which  took  their  lamps  and  went  forth  to  meet 
the  bridegroom.  In  the  exhibition  of  doctrine,  in  the  de- 
lineation of  character,  and  in  portraying  the  future  life,  this 
process  of  comparison  is  freely  used.  The  barren  fig-tree, 
the  rich  man  and  Lazarus,  and  the  Pharisee  and  the  pub- 
lican, are  pictorial  illustrations  of  the  most  startling  and 
graphic  nature.  Things  which  in  themselves  are  purely 
metaphysical  and  spiritual  are  made  to  appear  to  the  eve 
as  clearly  as  if  spread  upon  the  canvas  or  wrought  in  brass 
or  marble. 

With  all  their  seeming  plainness  and  simplicity,  the  in- 
spired comparisons  are  often  unfathomably  profound.     The 
careless  and  superficial,  while  delighted  and  attracted  by 
(320) 


The  Likes  of  the  Kingdom.  321 

the  mere  dress  of  the  thought,  may  miss  of  the  lesson  in- 
tended. Hence,  there  is  nothing  contradictory  in  the  dec- 
laration :  "  Therefore  speak  I  to  them  in  parables,  because 
they,  seeing,  see  not ;  and  hearing,  they  hear  not ;  neither 
do  they  understand."  The  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  are 
veiled  or  disclosed  according  to  the  character  and  spirit  of 
the  hearer.  The  Saviour's  illustrations  were  so  constructed 
as  to  become  a  test  of  character,  shedding  light  upon  those 
who  are  panting  for  it  and  leaving  others  to  the  darkness 
which  they  loved.  Besides  the  quality  of  discrimination, 
this  mode  of  presenting  truth  has  the  advantage  of  conden- 
sation. Seemingly  diffuse,  it  is  exceedingly  compact.  The 
parables  are  like  gems  which  flash  their  colors  from  many 
sides,  and  like  those  supreme  landscapes  which  display  won- 
drous beauties  from  many  different  approaches.  In  the  par- 
able of  the  wheat  and  the  tares,  or  in  that  of  the  ten  vir- 
gins, it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  so  much  could  be  told  in 
so  few  words  in  any  other  form.  The  office  of  figure  and 
all  illustrative  speech  is  really  to  condense.  While  it  sim- 
plifies and  embellishes,  it  also  throws  the  subject  in  hand 
into  the  utmost  compactness. 

Plainness,  discrimination,  and  attractiveness  are  qualities 
in  the  use  of  illustrations,  but  in  Scripture  are  the  further 
l)urposcs  of  depth  and  brevity.  This  style  is  doubtless  in 
keeping  with  the  luxui'iauce  of  the  Oriental  imagination, 
and  especially  in  accord  with  the  genius  of  the  Hebrew 
mind.  But  human  nature  craves  it  everywhere,  and  Christ 
spoke  the  universal  language  of  man  when  he  clothed  the 
sublime  truths  of  religion  in  imagery  of  the  utmost  grace 
and  beauty.  These  likes  of  the  kingdom  are  the  most  atten- 
tion-compelling and  the  most  awakening  and  enchaining  of 
all  the  great  Teacher's  words.  Many  a  careless  soul  has 
turned  to  repentance  at  that  point  in  the  discoui-se  where 
the  rich  man  and  Lazarus  are  sketched ;  and  many  another 
21 


322  The  EditOr-Bishop. 

has  first  yielded  to  the  love  and  hope  which  the  prodigal  son 
inspires.  The  Bible  is  adapted  to  the  human  mind,  and 
everywhere  recognizes  this  need  and  appetite  for  illustra- 
tion. Hence,  we  have  the  epic  of  Job,  the  pastoral  of  Ruth, 
the  lyrics  of  David,  and  the  surpassingly  sublime  drama 
of  the  Apocalypse ;.  hence,  also,  the  likes  of  the  kingdom. 
The  sensation  created  by  the  passion-play  «f  Ober  Animer- 
gau  indicates  the  strength  of  this  craving  for  the  scenic  and 
dramatic.  Truth  is  good  in  itself,  but  few  like  the  raw  ma- 
terial. To  reach  the  popular  apprehension  it  must  be 
cooked,  and  seasoned  with  condiments  to  awaken  desire. 
It  must  wear  clothes,  and  this  not  for  service  alone  but  also 
for  adornment.'  The  eye  drinks  in  color  even  as  the  thirsty 
stomach  drinks  in  water.  The  mind  hungers  for  rhythm 
and  grace  in  forms  and  sounds  as  the  body  hungers  for  con- 
venient food. 

The  old  scribes  illuminated  their  otherwise  dry  and  tur- 
gid manuscripts  and  adorne<l  their  parchments  with  pictures 
which  have  outlined  the  text.  Our  own  is  eminently  an 
age  of  pictures.  Books,  papers,  and  magazines  are  nothing 
Avithout  them.  The  style  of  writing  and  speaking  partakes 
of  this  pictorial  character.  The  pulpit  glows  more  than 
ever  with  illustrations,  and  this  demand  of  human  nature  is 
preeminently  recognized  in  the  forcible  presentation  of  the 
gospel  message.  This  is  (^  it  should  be;  only  that  there  are 
dangers  and  excesses  to  be  avoided.  If  we  would  attract 
and  instruct,  we  must  adapt  our  means  to  influence  and  en- 
lighten men  as  we  find  them.  It  is  safe  to  speak  "as  the 
oracles  of  God,"  and  especially  to  draw  our  figures  and  il- 
lustrations from  this  inspired  treasury.  The  analogies  of 
the  natural  to  the  spiritual  may,  however,  be  easily  misap- 
plied; and  there  are  no  more  fruitful  sources  of  error  than 
this  fertility  in  the  use  of  comparisons.  In  the  fashion  for 
object-teaching  and  illustrative  prcaJtiing  there  is  danger 


The  Likes  of  the  Kingdom.  323 


of  such  degeneracy  as  ends  in  the  mere  burlesque  of  truth. 
In  the  effort  to  simplify  and  popularize  it  is  hard  to  avoid 
the  peril  of  degradation.  Talmage  is  frequently  open  to 
these  objections;  and  Beecher,  though  a  much  superior 
painter,  is  not  altogether  clear  of  them.  The  likes  of  the 
kingdom  are  suggestive  of  matter  and  style,  and  to  be 
sought  and  cultivated.  All,  however,  cannot  hold  the  pen- 
cil with  equal  skill,  and  for  many  to  affect  the  pictorial 
style  would  be  simply  ludicrous.  Then,  again,  the  Bible  is 
not  all  epic  and  parable,  but  there  is  a  judicious  admixture 
of  lights  and  shades,  such  as  the  mosaics  of  art  present. 

Beyond  what  the  inspired  mode  of  instruction  may  sug-. 
gest  in  reference  to  the  methods  of  presenting  truth,  Ave  are 
called  to  study  and  expound  these  resemblances,  at  least  to 
ourselves.  It  is  most  important  for  us  to  know  what  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  that  we  may  realize  its  establish- 
ment in  the  heart  and  recognize  it  in  the  life  and  history 
around  us.  These  portraits  and  scenes  are  to  be  placed  in 
every  possible  light,  and  to  be  looked  at  and  analyzed  and 
reexan)ined.  If  they  may  not  teach  us  to  preach,  they  will 
assuredly  tell  us  how  to  live  and  what  to  be.  Studied  with 
the  light  of  the  Holy  Spirit  shining  on  them  and  us,  we 
shall  be  rewarded  by  a  thousand  surprises.  New  merits 
and  hitherto  undiscovered  expressions  will  burst  upon  us, 
and  we  shall  find  in  our  experience  what  it  is  for  those  to 
whom  it  "  is  given  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven." 


LIKE  PASSIONS. 

The  example  of  eminent  and  holy  persons  is  weakened 
by  the  disposition  to  regard  them  as  somehow  removed  from 
the  ordinary  sphere  of  human  experience.  They  are  like 
the  fixed  stars — so  anw.ingly  remote  that  we  have  scarcely 


324  The  Editor-Bishop. 

a  spectroscopic  hint  of  the  fact  that  their  elementary  consti- 
tution is  like  our  own.  Distance  heightens  the  impression 
of  their  grandftUr  and  stability,  while  it  conceals  the  per- 
turbations and  convulsions  which  are  going  on  within  them. 
Take  up  almost  any  of  the  great  characters  of  the  inspired 
history,  and  this  tendency  to  place  them  in  orbits  very  dif- 
ferent and  very  far  from  those  in  which  we  move  is  appar- 
ent. Such  patience  as  Job  had,  such  faith  as  Abraham  il- 
lustrated, such  love  as  John  attained,  such  zeal  as  Paul  ex- 
hibited, are  regarded  as  exceptional  and  as  connected  with 
conditions  which  can  be  realized  by  few. 

The  opinion  was  common  a  century  ago,  and  has  always 
obtained  to  some  extent  among  religious  people,  that  the 
assurance  of  pardon  is  given  to  only  a  favored  few.  So 
thought  Susanna  Wesley's  father;  so  thought  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson.  Paul  may  have  enjoyed  the  witness  of  the  Spirit, 
and  the  participators  in  the  scenes  of  Pentecost  had  in  them 
the  Spirit  of  adoption,  crying,  "Abba,  Father!"  But  there 
are  abundance  of  people  who  never  think  of  bringing  these 
comforts  and  blessings  home  to  themselves  as  a  part  of  their 
spiritual  heritage.  To  them  they  are  things  as  far  off  as 
the  fires  of  Sirius,  and  as  little  known  as  the  chemistry  of 
Aldebaran.  To  them  that  brilliant  galaxy  of  heroes  and 
heroines  displayed  in  the  eleventh  of  Hebrews,  as  stretching 
across  the  entire  firmaoiTit  of  inspired  history,  is  an  unre- 
solved nebula  of  luminous  but  impracticable  coruscations. 
These  illustrious  names  are  hardly  conceived  of  as  standing 
for  real  human  creatures,  and  as  representing  men  and 
women  constituted  like  themselves. 

To  be  profited  and  encouraged,  we  must  bring  these  ex- 
amples of  piety  and  faith  near  to  us,  and  look  upon  them 
as  moving  in  our  own  ])lane  of  experience.  The  impartial- 
ity of  the  divine  record  is  helpful  in  this  respect,  not  only 
vindicating  the  truth  of  the  narram-e,  but  revealing  the 


The  Likes  of  the  Kingdom.  325 

likeness  of  those  celebrated  men  to  ourselves.  The  little 
lines  which  tell  us  that  the  sun  and  stars  are  made  of  the 
same  materials  as  the  earth  are*  not  more  instructive  than 
are  those  occasional  strokes  which  afford  glftirpses  of  human 
passion  and  infirmity  in  those  we  have  been  wont  to  place 
above  the  condition  of  ordinary  mortals.  It  is  something 
that  James  thought  worth  while  to  tell  us  in  connection 
with  the  story  of  Elias's  faith  that  he  "  was  a  man  subject 
to  like  passions  as  we  are."  The  history  shows  this  as  it 
describes  him  in  his  flight  from  Jezreel,  in  his  vexation  and 
despair  by  the  way,  and  in  the  cave  of  Horeb.  But  we 
might  forget  all  this  in  the  affair  with  the  priests  of  Baal 
and  in  the  singularly  glorious  scene  of  the  translation. 
When  he  shut  the  heavens,  when  the  clouds  came  at  his 
bidding,  and  when  he  was  about  to  step  into  the  chariot,  he 
was  all  the  time  "a  man  subject  to  like  passions  as  we  are" 
— naturally  weak  and  infirm,  but  exalted  and  glorified  by 
the  grace  of  God. 

It  shows  not  what  God  can  make  out  of  angels,  or  what 
he  might  have  made  out  of  sinless  and  perfect  men,  but 
what  he  can  make  out  of  our  fallen  humanity.  As  modi- 
fied by  circumstances,  it  exhibits  a  standard  of  common  at- 
tainment in  which  the  weakest  and  humblest  has  a  personal 
concern.  Longfellow  has  rendered  the  lesson  in  its  less  im- 
portant application : 

Lives  of  great  men  all  ii^Blind  us 

We  may  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 

Foot-prints  on  the  sands  of  time. 

Foot-prints  that  perhaps  another, 

Sailing  o'er  life's  solemn  main, 
A  forlorn  and  shipwrecked  brother, 

Seeing,  shall  take  heart  again. 

It  must  have  been  an  incident  of  peculiar  comfort  to 


326  The  Editor-Bishop. 


John  when,  amidst  the  unfoldings  of  the  apocalyptic  vision, 
his  act  of  worship  was  arrested  by  the  admonition:  "See 
thou  do  it  not ;  I  am  thy  fellow-servant,  and  of  thy  breth- 
ren that  have  the  testimony  of  Jesus."  Here  was  one  Avho 
had  been  like  himself  already  invested  with  shining  robes 
and  gloriously  resplendent  in  the  world  of  light.  It  is  of 
such  humanity  as  oijrs,  with  its  frailty  and  infirmities,  that 
saints  are  fashioned  here  and  upon  which  a  crown  of  glory 
is  placed  in  heaven.  What  the  grace  of  God  has  done  for 
others  it  is  able  to  do  for  us.  We  may  follow  in  the  foot- 
prints of  a  greater  than  Elias,  and  sit  down  with  him  on  his 
throne  at  last. 


CHILD-LIKENESS. 

The  evangelical  prophet,  in  his  vision  of  Messiah's  king- 
dom, describes  the  greatest  trium^  over  most  discordant 
characters  when  he  tells  us  that  "  a  little  child  shall  lead 
them."  The  wolf  is  to  dwell  with  the  lamb,  the  leopard  is 
to  lie  down  with  the  kid,  the  calf  and  the  young  lion  and 
the  fatling  are  seen  in  companionship,  and  a  little  child 
leads  them  all.  The  child  leader  is  in  the  foreground  of 
this  sweet  picture,  and  is  in  strong  contrast  with  the  turbu- 
lent and  rugged  forms  which  quietly  submit  to  his  guidance. 
The  dimpled  arm  is  laid  upon  the  lion's  mane,  and  the  leop- 
ard and  the  wolf  yield  to  the  soft  caress.  Savage  malignity 
and  the  mightiest  forces  of  cruelty  "and  hate  are  held  in 
abeyance  by  the  fascinating  spell  of  innocence.  All  these 
symbols  of  lordly  power  and  all-prevailing  discord  are 
held  in  complete  subjection  by  this  type  of  humility. 

The  prophet's  vision  and  the  Saviour's  symbolical  action 
are  in  perfect  harmony.  The  little  child  which  Christ 
placed  in  "the  midst  of  his  disciples  carries  our  minds  back 
to  the  imagery  of  Isaiah,  and  we  see  in  both  the  exhibition 


The  Likes  of  the  Kingdom.  327 

of  the  same  great  essentials  of  the  gospel  kingdom.  In 
both  it  is  the  little  child  that  leads — that  "  is  greatest  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  The  only  greatness  is  humility ;  the 
only  real  strength  is  meekness  and  docility  of  mind.  Christ 
insists  that  without  this  child-likeness  entrance  into  the  king- 
dom is  impossible.  It  must  be  received  as  a  little  child; 
and  "except  ye  be  converted,  and  becftlne  as  little  children, 
ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Doubtless 
one  of  the  chief  hinderances  of  many  unconverted  people 
is  their  pride.  But  for  this  they  would  have  sought  and 
found  peace  long  ago.  They  are  unwilling  to  be  led  and 
taught  of  God,  and  to  yield  implicit  obedience  to  the  de- 
mands of  the  gospel.  They  are  too  wise  in  their  own  opin- 
ions and  conceits,  and  trust  too  much  in  their  superior  cul- 
tivation and  intellect.  The  deep  self-abasement  of  repent- 
ance and  the  entire  sel^renunciation  of  a  thorough  spiritual 
awakening  are  far  from  them.  The  difficulty  in  their  case 
is  to  get  low  enough — in  a  word,  to  receive,  the  kingdom 
"as  a  little  child."  If  it  could  be  obtained  in  a  learned 
way,  in  a  dignified  and  philosophical  manner,  with  no  sense 
of  sin  and  with  no  confession  of  guilt,  the  matter  would  be 
settled.  Pride  of  intellect,  and  the  fancied  possession  of  su- 
perior parts  and  attainments,  keep  many  from  that  spirit  of 
inquiry  which  would  result  in  their  speedy  salvation.  Can- 
dor and  simplicity  are  associated  with  humbleness  of  mind. 
Thorough  honesty  wi^i  himself  is  rare  with  the  sinner.  He 
may  be  honorable  and  upright  in  his  social  relations,  but 
he  is  not  true  to  himself.  He  persists  in  disguising  the 
guilt  and  corruption  of  his  heart,  and  clings  tenaciously  to 
the  notion  of  his  own  righteousness.  He  is  wanting  in  integ- 
rity in  dealing  with  God  and  his  own  soul.  He  is  a  sinner, 
a  great  sinner,  but  unwilling  to  admit  in  the  secret  thoughts 
of  his  heart  that  he  needs  the  mercy  of  an  offended  Law- 
giver.   The  great  obstacle  to  entrance  into  the  kingdom  is 


328  The  Editor-Bishop. 

this  self-exaltation.  He  would  receive  it  as  a  man  of  learn- 
ing, as  a  man  of  wealth,  as  a  scholar,  thinker,  moralist,  and 
gentleman — in  any  way  except  as  a  little  child.  Docility 
and  transparency  of  mind  and  thorough  honesty  of  soul  are 
the  sure  precursors  of  the  new  birth. 

If  the  spiritual  kingdom  is  entered  as  a  little  child,  it  is 
also  maintained  in  the  same  manner.  The  maturest  Chris- 
tian life  is  noted  for  its  profound  humility — not  the  affected 
humility  of  cant  and  hollow  profession,  but  that  lowliness 
of  mind  which  sits  in  the  dust  before  God.  Faith  is  always 
humble.  The  Syrophenician  woman  and  the  centurion 
were  distinguished  by  this  trait.  Such  faith  had  not  been 
seen  in  Israel,  nor  such  humility.  "We  cannot  conceive  of 
faith  as  separated  from  this  deep  self-abasement.  In  such 
characters  as  Moses  and  Abraham — men  of  princely  great- 
ness, and  possessed  of  the  loftiest  attributes  of  mind — hu- 
mility is  the  inseparable  attendant  of  their  faith.  Evan- 
gelical faith  Embraces  perfect  teachableness,  unquestioning 
obedience,  and  unfaltering  trust.  We  may  be  tempted  to 
enter  the  regions  of  speculation  and  to  wander  in  the  mazes 
of  skeptical  philosophy ;  we  may  endeavor  to  construct  a 
religion  of  science,  and  to  affect  a  higher  wisdom  and  a  bet- 
ter understanding  in  theological  lore  than  others,  but  Me 
shall  be  compelled  at  last  to  come  back  to  the  starting-point 
of  simple  reliance  upon  God.  After  searching  through  the 
universe  for  something  more  satisfactory,  we  come  back  to 
the  feet  of  Jesus  and  return  to  God  as  the  rest  of  the  soul. 
After  all  of  our  efforts  to  be  great  and  wise  and  knowing, 
Ave  find  that  the  highest  and  divinest  life  is  to  be  converted 
and  to  "become  as  little  children." 

All  genuine  growth  in  grace  is  in  this  direction,  wherein 
simplicity,  transparency,  and  humility  more  and  more  in- 
vest the  character.  The  politic,  the  worldly,  and  the  am- 
bitious are  far  removed  from  this  description  of  true  relig- 


The  Likes  of  the  Kingdom.  329 

ion.  These  qualities  are  near  neighbors  to  hypocrisy,  and 
sometimes  mar  the  Christian  profession.  How  that  little 
child  must  have  rebuked  the  self-seeking  and  ambition  of 
the  disciples  who  had  just  inquired,  "Who  is  the  greatest 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ?  "  The  child  was  the  gospel  of 
uuworldliness,  of  lowliness  and  sincerity,  while  in  the  hearts 
of  the  disciples  was  the  budding  of  a  carnal  and  selfish  am- 
bition. That  child  in  the  midst  is  our  lesson  and  our  re- 
buke— warning  against  a  tendency  which  has  outlived  the 
group  which  then  surrounded  the  Master.  The  seeking  of 
great  things  for  oureelves,  the  persistent  angling  after  pub- 
lic commendation,  and  the  indulgence  of  a  politic  and  rest- 
less ambition,  are  in  profound  contrast  with  the  spirit  which 
Jesus  demanded.  The  child  illustrated  the  divine  kingdom, 
but  it  took  the  grace  of  Pentecost  to  set  it  up  in  the  heart. 
Nothing  but  that  baptism  of  fire  can  cleanse  the  fallen  soul 
of  its  duplicity,  conceit,  and  vanity.  Nothing  less  can  cure 
it  of  pride  and  inordinate  affection,  and  bring  it  to  that 
child-likeness  which  is  at  once  the  loveliest  and  sublimest 
of  all  our  religious  attainments. 


PLANTING  AND  TRANSPLANTING. 


PLANTED  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  LORD. 

SUCH  are  to  flourish  in  the  courts  of  our  God,  They 
are  to  be  fat  and  flourishing,  and  to  bring  forth  fruit  in 
old  age.  We  would  put  the  emphasis  on  "  planted."  This 
is  more  than  merely  to  be  i^  the  house  of  the  Lord.  It  is 
something  different  from  transplanting.  Generally,  this 
cluster  of  promises  is  dependent  upon  the  planting.  The 
psalmist  must  have  had  in  view  the  religious  training  of 
children,  the  convei-sion  of  the  young.  Special  blessings 
rest  upon  them.  Old  sinners  and  middle-aged  transgress- 
ors, and  those  who  have  ripened  in  worldliness,  may  be  saved. 
In  some  instances  they  may  be  more  than  saved — helping  to 
save  others,  and  doing  a  great  work  of  usefulness.  But 
those  who  start  early  have  many  advantages — they  hold 
out  better;  they  are  more  fruitful.  Samuel  may  have  been 
an  eminent  illustration  of  this  planting,  and  the  original  of 
the  portrait.  Literally  he  was  planted  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord — placed  there  in  his  childhood,  and  kept  there. 

Home  influence  and  religious  instruction  are  of  course 
necessary,  but  the  Church  aspect  of  piety  is  here  set  forth. 
The  children  are  connected  with  the  house  by  their  public 
baptism,  by  the  enrollment  of  their  names  on  the  register, 
and  by  recognition  as  the  subjects  of  pastoral  as  well  as  of 
parental  oversight.  But  this  process  of  planting  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord  embraces  also  the  habitual  attendance  on 
public  worship  at  a  very  early  age  and  participating  in  that 
worship.  The  child  is  to  be  taught  the  duties  and  truths 
of  the  gospel  the  practice  of  religion,  and  the  need  of  per- 
(380) 


Planting  and  Transplanting.  331 

sonal  experieuce  of  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  but  be- 
sides he  must  also  be  instructed  in  regard  to  his  relations  to 
the  Church  of  Christ,  and  that  he  is  called  to  identify  him- 
self formally  with  the  people  of  God. 

The  Sunday-school  in  a  measure  meets  this  demand,  as  it 
is  a  school  of  public  worship,  of  prayer  and  praise,  as  well 
as  of  religious  instruction.  Its  services  are  usually  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord,  and  the  Church  idea,  with  its  institu- 
tions and  ordinances,  is  exhibited  and  impressed.  Still,  the 
Sunday-school  does  not  meet  the  full  requirement.  The 
child  must  become  a  part  or  the  congregation,  hear  the 
word  from  the  lips  of  the  preacher,  and  form  a  part  of  the 
assembly  that  may  be  described  as  the  Church  and  as  the 
house  of  the  Lord.  Religion  may  be  taught  at  home,  in  the 
school,  and  by  various  agencies ;  but  something  would  be 
lacking  if  there  were  no  public  ordinances,  no  social  wor- 
ship, and  no  training  in  the  duties  of  God's  house.  Con- 
version is  the  main  thing ;  and  yet,  to  secure  a  thorough  re- 
ligious education  and  to  develop  and  give  permanence  and 
usefulness  to  religious  character,  there  must  be  this  planting 
in  the  house  of  the  Lord.  There  must  be  an  early  induc- 
tion into  the  public  worship  of  God  and  early  instruction 
in  the  nature  and  obligation  of  the  ordinances  and  institu- 
tions of  religion. 

In  our  dealing  with  children  this  is  a  serious  defect:  that 
we  do  not,  even  with  sufficient  literalness,  plant  them  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord.  We  do  not  instruct  them  clearly  in  re- 
gard to  the  import  of  their  baptism  and  concerning  the  open 
profession  of  Christ  and  the  duty  to  claim  the  privilege  of 
recognition  as  members  of  the  visible  Church.  Besides 
Christian  morals  and  doctrines,  this  special  phase  of  relig- 
ious training  requires  more  than  incidental  attention  on  the 
part  of  parents,  pastors,  and  teachers.  There  is  a  partial 
neglect — often  entire  neglect — of  the  Church  discipline  and 


332  The  Editor-Bishop. 

training;  and  the  result  is  that  children,  as  they  grow  up, 
practically  repudiate  all  outward  ties  to  the  Church  and  all 
obligations  to  conform  to  its  rules.  With  some  notions  of 
religion,  and  with  imperfect  conceptions  of  the  nature  of 
the  Church,  they  drift  away  from  the  house  of  God  and 
cease  to  regard  themselves  as  in  any  way  connected  with  his 
people.  In  childhood  they  have  not  been  impressed  seri- 
ously with  the  fact  that  they  sustain  any  real  relation  to  the 
Church,  and  their  presence  in  the  congregation  has  not  been 
insisted  on  as  a  matter  of  any  moment.  It  is  not  strange 
that  Svhen  they  become  older  they  should  regard  themselves 
as  still  free  to  neglect  the  house  of  God  and  to  keep  aloof 
from  its  services. 

It  is  a  sad  and  yet  not  very  uncommon  thing  for  parents 
advanced  in  years  to  sit  alone  in  the  house  of  the  Lord, 
while  their  grown-up  children  have  become  indifferent  to 
the  exercises,  privileges,  and  instructions  of  the  sanctuary. 
Their  children  have  not  been  wholly  neglected ;  there  have 
been  religious  instruction  and  example,  but  the  failure  has 
been  to  plant  them  in  the  house  of  the  Lord.  The  children 
went  to  Sunday-school  perhaps,  but  they  did  not  attend 
preaching.  It  was  not  impressed  upon  them  that  they  were 
to  worship  with  the  congregation.  They  were  practically 
taught  to  consider  the  prayer-meeting  as  exclusively  for  the 
older  people.  Thus  they  have  come  to  years  unconverted, 
without  the  habit  of  worship,  and  with  no  taste  for  the 
service  of  God's  house. 

Is  it  possible  for  religious  parents  to  so  attach  their  chil- 
dren to  the  Church,  and  to  so  imbue  them  with  the  love  of 
it,  that  they  shall  cling  to  its  worship  as  long  as  they  live? 
Not  in  every  case,  probably,  and  yet  much  can  be  done  to 
secure  this  result.  If  care  is  taken  to  plant  them  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord,  the  presumption  is  that  they  will  grow 
and  flourish  therein. 


Planting  and  Transplanting.  333 

TRANSPLANTING. 

In  spiritual  as  in  natural  husbandry  this  is  a  critical  oper- 
ation. Many  trees  and  plants  die  under  it,  many  more  are 
withered  and  stunted  and  are  sickly  and  unfruitful,  while  a 
few  are  improved  and  do  better  for  the  change.  The  same 
is  true  of  the  spiritual  process.  Members  of  our  churches 
are  moving  from  one  section  of  the  country  to  another. 
What  effect  have  these  changes  upon  their  religious  welfare? 
Some  are  culpably  negligent  about  taking  their  lettere, 
and  others  who  take  them  fail  to  hand  them  in  and  to  unite 
with  the  church  where  they  have  taken  up  their,  residence. 
This  is  a  common  and  great  evil,  a  sin  not  of  small  magni- 
tude— this  negligence  and  indifference  about  their  relations 
and  duties  which  those  who  were  ra'embers  of  the  Church 
exhibit  in  their  new  homes.  We  have  known  instances 
where  the  interregnum  between  taking  a  certificate  and  de- 
positing it  has  been  used  for  a  little  relaxation — such  as 
theater-going,  and  other  diversions  and  practices  incompat- 
ible with  the  Christian  pi'ofession  and  discipline. 

Sometimes  people  defer  uniting  with  the  Church  on  the 
ground  that  their  sojourn  is  temporary,  or  from  other  flimsy 
reasons  it  is  delayed  until  the  certificates  of  membership 
are  worn  out  or  lost,  or  become  so  old  that  they  are  ashamed 
to  produce  them. 

The  experiment  of  living  out  of  the  Church  for  ever  so 
short  a  time  is  dangerous.  It  is  like  taking  a  tree  from  the 
soil  and  expecting  it  will  retain  its  life  without  being  im- 
mediately reset.  If  life  is  preserved,  it  has  sustaineli  an  in- 
jury that  may  never  be  wholly  cured.  How  much  harm 
negligent  Christians  sustain  by  the  presumption  of  living 
for  a  time  out  of  the  Church  cannot  be  estimated ;  and  the 
loss  to  them  is  greater  from  the  fact  that  the  restraints  and 
helps  of  their  old  associations  are  broken  off  and  they  are 
now  amonirst  those  wlio  do  not  know  them  as  the  children 


334  The  Editor-Bishop. 

of  God.  In  their  old  homes  they  were  known  as  raenAers 
of  the  Church ;  tlie  watchful  solicitude  of  pastors  and  breth- 
ren were  thrown  around  them;  but  in  their  new  domiciles 
they  are  not  recognized  as  of  the  household  of  faith,  and 
cannot  be  until  they  exhibit  their  credentials  and  publicly 
connect  themselves  with  the  people  of  God. 

It  is  here  that  many  have  fallen  and  have  been  lost  to  the 
Church  and  to  heaven.  They  have  been  torn  away  from 
long-accustomed  religious  associations,  and  before  new  ones 
are  formed  the  sap  and  life  of  their  religion  are  gone.  All 
the  records  of  backsliding  and  apostasy  attest  the  fearful 
danger  of  delay  in  renewing  our  fellowship  with  the  Church. 
However  specious  the  reasons  for  it,  and  plausible  at  the 
same  time,  there  is  serrous  risk  in  it.  It  is  a  temptation  of 
the  devil,  and  the  disposition  to  yield  to  it  forebodes  ship- 
wreck and  ruin.  From  long  and  careful  observation,  we 
are  convinced  that  many  souls  are  lost  from  this  single 
cause,  and  that  multitudes  of  members  are  lost  to  the 
Church  by  changes  of  residence  and  the  failure  to  prompt- 
ly renew  their  religious  communion. 

But  where  the  letter  is  duly  deposited,  how  often  does  it 
prove  to  be  a  nominal  thing?  We  watch  the  result  very 
much  as  the  gardener  watches  a  tree  that  has  been  taken 
from  some  other  soil.  Will  it  live?  and  will  it  flourish  as 
it  once  did?  It  is  not  uncommon  to  see  those  who  in  their 
former  homes  were  pillars  of  the  Church — the  backbone  of 
its  enterprise,  and  active  and  zealous  in  every  duty — be- 
come coW  and  useless  in  the  Church  whither  they  have  re- 
moved their  membership.  There  are  reasons  for  this  in  the 
fact  that  they  are  strangers,  and  that  time  is  needful  for  the 
growth  of  new  ties  and  even  of  Christian  friendship  and 
sympathy.  livery  thing  at  fii*st  is  strange,  cheerless,  some- 
times repulsive.  A  religious  homesickness  comes  over  the 
soul,  and  great  spiritual  discouragement. 


Planting  and  Transplanting.  335 

The^e  disadvantages  would  be  much  lessened  if  the  pas- 
U)TS  and  most  expeiieneed  members  of  our  churches  better 
knew  the  "  heart  of  a  stranger,"  and  would  exhibit  peculiar 
interest  in  those  who  come  from  other  and  distant  charges. 
In  most  of  our  churches  there  is  a  lamentable  defect  in  this 
respect.  Pains  are  not  taken  to  make  the  new-comer  feel  at 
home,  and  to  supply  the  society  and  sympathy  which  are  so 
needful  and  which  his  heart  is  yearning  for.  This  consid- 
eration, which  ordinary  courtesy  not  less  than  Christian  be- 
nevolence would  seem  to  require,  is  often  utterly  wanting. 
Nobody  takes  the  stranger  by  the  hand,  nobody  visits  his 
family,  and  it  requires  a  wonderful  amount  of  faith  and 
self-assertion  to  maintain  the  old  standard  of  spirituality 
under  such  untoward  circumstances.  Of  most  of  our  charges 
the  confession  is  a  true  one,  "  We  are  very  guilty  concern- 
ing our  brother."  Often  do  we  leave  choicest  and  most  sen- 
sitive spirits  to  languish  and  struggle  in  unfriendly  neglect, 
when  u  little  genuine  kindness  and  encouragement  would 
iiave  cheered  and  saved  them. 

The  jeopardy  of  the  process  would  be  diminished  by  more 
love  and  faithfulness  on  the  part  of  the  pastors  and  people, 
but  it  would  not  be  altogether  removed.  There  is  danger  at 
best,  and  he  who  chanj'-es  his  membership  must  be  on  his 
guard.  He  must  become  rooted  and  grounded  as  soon  and 
as  thoroughly  as  possible.  Watchfulness  and  diligence  and 
prayer  are  needed  more  than  ever.  Temptations  to  neglect 
Church  duties  will  be  strong  and  in  alliance  with  the  shock 
which  the  disruption  of  old  habits  and  associations  has  oc- 
casioned. Where  we  are  not  so  long  and  well  known  there 
may  be  a  tendency  to  relax  in  circumspection  toward  the 
world,  and  the  social  enjoyment  which  is  not  immediately 
found  in  the  Church  may  be  sought  in  the  world  and  its 
unlawful  pleasures.  The  only  safety  is  in  a  most  hearty 
entrance  upon  the  duties  and  service  of  God  and  the  dili- 


336  The  Editor-Bishop. 

gent  improvement  especially  of  the  social  and  devotional 
meetings  of  the  Church, 

By  this  process  of  transplanting  we  have  seen  the  most 
vigorous  and  fruitful  dwindle  and  lead  a  half  withered  and 
bai-ren  life.  It  is  with  prayerful  solicitude  that  we  notice 
the  process  and  look  after  the  result.  Does  the  transplanted 
member  take  vigorous  root  and  deep  hold  of  the  soil  ?  Is 
there  no  sign  of  loss  or  blight?  And  how  great  the  relief 
when  at  length  the  crisis  passes  and  there  is  a  healing  and 
knitting  of  all  the  fibers,  and  the  member  enrolled  as  hav- 
ing "joined  by  letter"  becomes  as  a  "tree  planted  by  the 
rivers  of  waters."  At  a  time  Avhen  there  is  so  much  shifting 
and  changing  of  both  temporal  and  spiritual  homes,  the  ef- 
fect upon  our  religious  interests  and  welfare  should  be  care- 
fully examined,  and  the  dangers  to  which  wc  are  exposed 
should  be  exhibited  and  averted. 


TEACHINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS. 


CLOUDS  WITHOUT  WATER. 

THERE  are  few  things  more  tantalizing  or  more  keenly 
disappointing  in  a  dry  time  than  to  see  the  clouds  roll 
up  with  pi-omise  of  a  plentiful  shower,  and  then  to  pass 
over  our  heads  without  giving  so  much  as  a  drop  to  the 
thirsty  earth.  So  full  of  blessings  apparently,  and  so  near, 
and  yet  failing  to  discharge  the  coveted  store.  There  are 
clouds  that  drop  fatness  in  their  grand  march  across  the 
sky,  dispensing  fruitful  harvests  and  bringing  refreshment 
and  gladness  to  man  and  beast.  There  are  clouds  that 
float  high  and  thin,  that  spread  out  widely,  and  that  are 
utterly  empty.  They  sail  across  the  horizon  to  awaken 
expectation,  and  then  to  disappoint. 

That  "certain  men  "  should  be  described  as  clouds  with- 
out water  is  suggestive.  As  applied  to  the  ungodly  in  gen- 
eral, the  figure  is  forcible.  Our  end  and  mission  are  to 
carry  blessings  to  the  world.  But  the  wicked,  whatever 
their  pretensions,  are  like  the  vapor  that  never  condenses. 
The  earth  would  become  as  iron,  the  streams  would  dry  up, 
every  thing  beautiful  and  useful  would  wither,  if  the  world 
were  left  to  the  ministry  of  the  unbelieving.  They  con- 
tribute nothing  for  the  relief  of  a  race  stricken  with  sin. 
Touching  our  moral  and  spiritual  needs,  how  vain  are  the 
systems  of  skeptical  philosophy  and  science!  They  boast  a 
great  deal  of  culture  and  of  the  refining  influences  of  ma- 
terial discoveries.  Infidelity,  like  that  of  Voltaire,  claimed 
to  overthrow  superstition  and  to  enthrone  liberty  and  rea- 
son. Positivism  and  all  the  self-styled  idol-breakers — the 
22  (337) 


338  The  Editok-Bishop. 

materialistic  atheists  of  the  day — have  set  aside  the  notions 
of  a  personal  Creator  and  of  man's  conscious  immortality. 
They  claim  much,  but  they  have  done  nothing  ibr  the  wel- 
fare of  society.  Men  are  jitliirst  for  spiritual  consolation, 
for  the  waters  of  life,  but  these  pretenders  leave  them  to  cry 
in  despair  for  peace  and  satisfaction.  The  world — for  any 
thing  that  they  can  give — remains  a  moral  desert,  swept  by 
burning  winds,  and  parched  and  withered  by  a  dearth  that 
knows  no  alleviation.  The  hell  of  the  rich  man  has  its 
counterpart  in  a  world  that  looks  to  the  rejecters  of  the 
gospel  for  its  guidance  and  instruction.  One  drop  of  water 
is  more  than  these  swelling  clouds  can  bestow.  Amidst  the 
tormenting  flames  of  doubt  and  guilt  and  affliction  they 
offer  nothing  for  the  relief  of  human  sorrow  and  misery. 
Their  books,  their  lectures,  their  theories,  and  their  person- 
al influence  are  all  alike  empty  and  worthless. 

But  the  figure  as  applied  by  Jude  would  seem  to  refer  to 
some  who  have  "  crept  in  unawares,"  Assuming  to  belong 
to  the  company  of  the  good,  and  yet  "  turning  the  grace  of 
our  God  into  lasciviousness,"  and  denying  both  God  and 
Christ.  A  Christian  without  Christ,  a  religious  man  with- 
out God,  or  a  hypocrite  who  wears  the  form  and  denies  the 
power  of  godliness,  is  a  cloud  without  water.  This  is  the 
worst  aspect  of  the  illustration — a  godless  godliness,  flesh- 
ly riot  in  holy  places,  a  frocked  and  mitered  infidelity.  The 
Church  in  the  time  of  Leo  the  Tenth,  and  at  the  breaking 
out  of  the  Reformation,  was  at  its  center  nmch  in  this  con- 
dition. Pontiff,  priests,  and  people  were  covered  with  the 
leprosy  of  licentiousness,  simony,  and  the  disbelief  of  the 
truths  of  the  gospel.  Clouds  without  water  are  Churches 
thus  corrupted  and  debased.  All  depends  upon  their  pu- 
rity and  spirituality,  whether  they  shall  refresh  God's  her- 
itage with  fertilizing  showers  or  leave  it  to  blight  and  deso- 
lation.   There  are  Churches  like  these  empty  clouds.    They 


Teachings  op  the  Clouds.  339 

claim  to  be  the  elect,  they  promise  great  things,  but  there 
is  no  balm  in  them,  and  the  plants  that  look  to  them  for 
life  are  not  watered.  The  early  and  the  latter  rain  does  not 
come  down  from  them  upon  the  fields  of  God.  The  dark 
picture  drawn  by  the  inspired  wi'iter  n^ed  not  exist  in  all 
its  features  in  order  that  this  single  touch  may  hav^e  appli- 
cation to  men  and  things  of  the  present  day.  There  are 
Churches  not  corrupt,  and  Sunday-schools  mainly  well  con- 
ducted, that  ought  to  yield  a  large  result  and  do  not.  There 
is  a  vast  deal  of  ecclesiastical  vaporing,  counting  the  peo- 
ple, boasting  of  progress,  when  the  net  result  in  Christian 
achievement  amounts  to  little.  There  is  wide  margin  be- 
tween a  sprinkle  or  drizzle  and  a  good  rain.  That  is  a  good 
cloud  that  hangs  low  and  condenses  copiously.  How  shall 
we  do  that  our  Churches,  our  Sunday-schools,  and  all  our 
religious  organizations  may  condense  more  freely,  and  pour 
rivers  of  spiritual  water  upon  the  people? 

The  description  has  reference  mainly  to  persons — very 
bad  persons — as  the  drift  of  the  epistle  shows.  But  the 
negative  side  of  bad  people  and  of  the  tolerably  good  is 
much  the  same.  The  sin  of  omission  may  coincide  in  both. 
A  cloud  with  thunderbolts  and  storm  in  it  may  be  without 
water,  and  a  cloud  bright  with  sunbeams,  and  sailing  noise- 
lessly across  the  sky,  may  be  without  water.  One  does  much 
mischief  and  no  good,  the  other  simply  does  no  good.  There 
are  these  men  of  negative  goodness — waterless  clouds.  There 
are  the  bad,  the  sensual,  the  heterodox;  and  there  are 
the  well-behaved,  the  inactive,  the  unspiritual.  Sometimes 
there  are  great  pretensions,  but  little  results.  There  is  the 
profession,  but  nothing  follows  to  correspond.  There  is  no 
active  work,  no  leavening  influence.  The  family,  the  Church, 
the  community,  do  not  feel  the  power  of  a  new  life.  It  is 
a  profession,  and  nothing  more.  There  should  be  water  in 
every  Christian  cloud,  and  it  should  fall  like  rain  upon  the 


340  The  Editor-Bishop. 

mown  grass.  It  should  not  be  light,  and  carried  about  of 
winds  to  no  purpose,  but  big  with  the  riches  of  grace,  and 
filled  with  the  precious  influences  of  a  spiritual  and  zealous 
faith. 

The  preacher  may  be  a  cloud  with^jpt  water.  His  busi- 
ness eminently  is  to  pour  refreshing  streams  upon  thirsty 
souls.  The  Church  is  the  garden,  the  congregation  is  the 
field,  and  he  is  the  ordained  means  through  whom  these  are 
to  be  blessed.  Is  he  full  of  Christ?  Does  the  Avord  of 
Christ  dwell  richly  in  him?  Is  he  dripping  with  unction? 
Such  a  cloud  will  be  sure  to  revive  the  weary  and  bring 
joy  and  fruitfulness.  Pulpit  vaporing  is  the  sorriest  of  all 
vaporing.  Who  has  not  heard  preachers  whose  windy  and 
frothy  utterances  have  recalled  the  pertinent  words, "  Clouds 
without  water?"  After  all  the  seeming  promise,  and  the 
long  and  weary  waiting,  the  serious  hearers  go  away  as 
thirsty  as  they  came.-  The  preacher  was  not  a  beneficent 
cloud,  but  merely  an  empty  vapor. 


CLOUDS  AFTER  THE  RAIN. 

Clouds  returning  after  the  rain  is  the  Preacher's  descrip- 
tion of  old  age.  It  is  as  if  sorrow  were  to  come  upon  sor- 
row, trouble  upon  trouble.  There  is  rain  at  all  seasons; 
but  there  is  a  season — the  Avinter-time  of  life — when  the 
clouds  come  back  upon  us  with  all  the  gathered  volume  of 
a  whole  life  of  misfortune.  Very  few  comparatively  be- 
come old,  and  yet  a  considerable  argunjent  of  the  royal 
Preacher  for  early  piety  is  based  upon  its  necessity  as  the 
support  and  comfort  of  age.  Youth  has  health  and  hope, 
middle  life  has  strength  and  abundant  <)ccupation,  and  in 
both  there  are  conditions  of  pleasure  and  enjoyment  some- 
what independent  of  religion.  But  to  the  old,  in  whom  de- 
sire has  failed,  and  for  whom  youthful  pleasures  and  the 


Teachings  of  the  Clouds.  341 

employments  of  mature  years  are  no  more,  what  is  there 
left  if  the  comforts  of  religion  be  not  theirs? 

The  sorrows  of  old  age  are  partly  in  the  ties  of  domestic 
affection  that  have  been  severed.  The  wife  or  the  husband 
is  long  since  gone ;  some  or  all  of  the  children  have  dropped 
into  the  grave.  Pa#nts,  in  the#iider  of  nature,  have  passed 
away,  and  the  friends  and  associates  of  youth  have  nearly 
all  disappeared.  Old  age  is  almost  necessarily  a  state  of 
loneliness,  and  stands  apart  and  solitary,  though  surrounded 
by  the  younger  elements  of  society.  Nothing  is  more  com- 
mon, and  nothing  more  i)athetically  true,  than  the  plaint 
of  age,  "I  am  left  alone" — alone,  although  jostled  and 
Crowded  by  the  living,  restless  throng.  Then  infirmities  of 
body  have  usually  so  increased'  that  positive  pleasure  is  lost, 
and  hours  free  from  uneasiness  and  pain  are  rare.  The 
fresh,  clear  eye  of  youth  is  dimmed.  The  soul  can  never 
more  look  out  upon  the  forms  and  colors  of  this  beautiful 
world  as  it  once  did.  The  exquisitely  tinted  clouds  and 
sky,  and  the  varied  landscape,  wear  a  subdued  and  faded 
aspect.  The  ear  has  parted  with*ts  fine  sense  of  sound, 
and  the  rapture  of  melody  is  a  thing  of  the  past.  These 
avenues  of  so  much  delight  in  tne  earlier  years  are  partially 
closed,  and  the  sensations  which  they  yield  are  stripped  of 
the  zest  which  they  once  possessed.  The  touch  has  lost  its 
delicacy,  the  smell  can  no  longer  regale  with  the  breath  of 
pleasant  odors,  and  the  taste  has  .lost  the  nice  discrimina- 
tion which  detected  the  savor  of  the  choicest  food.  It  is 
the  lot  of  the  aged  to  be  thus  in  a  large  measure  shut  out 
from  the  material  world,  and  to  live  and  move  in  a  world 
but  half  open  to  the  physical  senses. 

If  poverty  comes,  there  is  this  aggravation  in  it :  the  ab- 
solute impossibility  of  restoring  the  broken  fortune.  The 
tree  is  not  quite  fallen,  but  it  is  so  nearly  down  that  "  there 
it  shall  be."     It  is  so  nearly  prone  that  nothing  can  ever 


342  The  Editor-Bishop. 

lift  it  again  to  its  place.  As  far  as  this  world  is  concerned, 
there  is  no  future  of  restored  prosperity  and  activity.  Life, 
with  its  opportunities  and  possibilities,  is  left  behind,  and 
the  soul  is  confronted  with  the  labor  and  sorrow  of  a  few 
brief  years,  and  then  the  grave  and  eternity.  Life  in  all 
of  its  stages  has  its  storms  and  tempests ;  in  every  period  of 
infancy,  youth,  and  maturity  there  are  sufferings  and  afflic- 
tions; but  old  age  is  marked  by  the  return  of  the  clouds 
after  the  rain.  After  the  period  of  vicissitude,  of  alternate 
light  and  shadow,  of  rain  and  sunshine,  comes  the  unbroken, 
the  settled,  and  somber  winter  of  our  years. 

As  religion  is  the  preparation  for  death,  it  is  also  the  prep- 
aration for  old  age.  In  the  Preacher's  estimate  of  the  mat- 
ter we  must  remember  God  in  our  youth  if  we  would  be 
sure  of  his  favor  in  old  age.  When  the  clouds  return  after 
the  rain,  and  the  pitiless  tempests  beat  upon  us,  it  will  be 
too  late.  Aged  sinners  seldom  seek  God ;  they  rarely  turn 
to  Christ.  The  near  approach  of  death  and  accumulating 
infirmities  do  not  usually  turn  the  tide  of  unbelief  and  in- 
difference into  the  channels  of  penitence  and  faith.  If  the 
winter  come  upon  us  without  religion,  its  days  of  darkness 
will  be  without  relief.  Th8i"e  will  be  no  spiritual  comfort, 
no  blessed  hope,  no  light  from  the  throne  above.  Old  age 
without  Christ  is  the  most  dismal,  the  most  forlorn,  the  most 
fearful  condition  that  is  conceivable  in  this  world,  and  sep 
arated  but  by  a  very  thin  partition  from  the  outer  dark- 
ness of  the  final  catastrophe. 

With  a  sure  hope  of  eternal  life,  with  the  comfort  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  with  the  heart  throbbing  with  love,  how 
different !  The  clouds  that  return  after  the  rain  are  then 
lined  with  silver,  there  is  a  bow  of  promise  upon  the  dark- 
est, and  none  is  without  its  rift  through  which  the  light  of 
heaven  breaks  upon  the  believing  soul.  It  is  a  somewhat 
somber  picture  which  the  Old  Testament  preacher  draws  of 


Teachings  of  the  Clouds.  343 

old  age,  but  it  is  accurate  and  to  the  life  of  the  average  ex- 
perience. There  is  in  it,  however,  the  assurance  that  god- 
liness brightens  up  the  scene  and  imparts  a  peculiar  glory- 
to  that  period  which  is  most  encompassed  with  infirmity 
and  sorrow.  Aged  Christians  are  almost  uniformly  happy. 
Gradually  and  leisurely  they  are  disrobing — throwing  off 
the  earthly — that  they  may  be  clothed  upon  with  the 
house  which  is  from  heaven,  and  that  mortality  may  be 
swallowed  up  of  life.  Cut  off  from  the  outer  world  in  a 
great  measure,  they  have  resources  within  themselves — 
the  recollections  of  a  devoted  and  useful  life,  commun- 
ion with  God,  and  an  eternity  of  blessedness  opening  before 
them. 

The  eye  is  dim,  and  the  eaT^is  dull,  and  the  heart  beats 
slowly  and  wearily ;  "  but  as  it  is  written.  Eye  hath  not 
seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man  the  things  which  God  hath  j^repared  for  them  that 
love  him."  In  old  age  especially  are  these  prepared  things 
revealed  by  the  Spirit.  The  winter's  store  has  been  gath- 
ering, and  there  is  abundant  cheer  for  the  days  when  leaden 
skies  and  howling  blasts  are  without.  The  clouds  that  re- 
turn after  the  rain,  however  dark  and  tempestuous  they 
may  seem,  bring  no  evil  to  the  children  of  God.  Rather 
they  afford  occasion  for  the  revelation  of  peculiar  mercies 
and  for  the  most  striking  illustrations  of  infinite  tenderness 
and  faithfulness.  In  no  other  circumstances  do  we  realize 
so  fully  that  time  predicted  by  the  ancient  seer,  when  "  the' 
man  [Christ]  shall  be  as  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind,  and 
a  covert  from  the  tempest." 


THE  WIND  AND  THE  CLOUDS/ 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  too  much  caution.     It  may  be 
carried  so  far  that  all  effort  is  paralyzed.     The  wise  man 


344  The  EDixoii-BiSHOr. 


thought  so  when  he  declared :  "  He  that  observeth  the  wind 
shall  not  sow ;  and  he  that  i-egardelji  the  clouds  shall  not 
reap."  The  wind  would  blow  away  the  seed  and  hinder  the 
sower  in  his  work ;  and  cloudy  and  rainy  weather  Avould 
damage  the  grain  in  the  reaping.  And  yet  the  husband- 
man who  pays  no  attention  to  the  weather  would  be  con- 
sidered as  lacking  in  common  sense.  Our  weather  bureau 
and  the  appliances  for  weather  forecasts  have  come  in  since 
Solomon's  time.  Planters  and  farmers  are  not  indifferent 
to  the  value  of  meteorological  science  as  it  is  now  developed 
and  applied. 

But  within  certain  limits  it  is  true  to-day,  with  all  the 
advantages  of  modern  science,  that  men  must  move  for- 
ward with  their  sowing  and  reaping,  and  that  where  no 
risk  is  incurred  nothing  will  be  done.  The  season  for  each 
kind  of  work  is  brief,  and  there  cannot  be  much  delay 
■without  losing  every  thing.  There  may  be  failure  anyhow, 
but  there  can  be  nothing  but  failure  if  we  do  not  strike 
out,  and  do  the  best  we  can.  Some  labor  will  be  lost,  some 
seed  blown  away,  some  of  the  ripening  harvest  injured,  in 
almost  any  average  season ;  and  it  may  turn  out  even  worse, 
so  that  all  shall  be  blighted.  The  tiller  of  the  ground  must 
be  hopeful,  brave,  and  have  faith  in  his  work  and  in  his 
God.  He  cannot  wait  till  the  time  of  sowing  is  past;  he 
cannot  be  idle  in  reaping-time  till  he  is  sure  no  foul  weather 
.will  come.  Besides,  he  must  often  go  forth  to  sow  even  when 
the  wind  seems  to^be  rising,  and  he  must  thrust  in  his  sickle 
when  the  clouds  are  gathering.  The  result  may  be  better 
than  he  feared,  and,  sowing  with  tearful  apprehension  and 
reaping  with  a  dismayed  heart,  his  garners,  nevertheless, 
may  be  filled. 

Some  people  are  always  watching  for  the  open  door  of 
usefulness.  They  would  do  something  in  the  way  of  be- 
nevolence.    But  circumstances  seem  to  discourage  effort. 


Teachings  of  the  Clouds.  345 

There  is  sure  to  be  something  in  the  way.  Some  obstacle 
to  success  is  suggested  as  often  as  the  desire  to  perform  any 
good  work  comes  upon  them.  Thus  they  spend  their  lives 
observing  the  wind,  regarding  the  clouds,  and  they  die  be- 
fore the  favorable  time  arrives.  They  neither  sow  nor 
reap. 
'  Better  is  that  disposition  for  active  usefulness  which  im- 
pels us  to  be  ever  doing  the  good  that  is  nearest,  helping 
the  afflicted,  working  for  Christ  in  humble  ways  every  day, 
without  stopping  to  ask  whether  it  will  come  to  much  or 
little.  It  may  be  much,  little,  or  almost  nothing,  but  it 
may  grow  like  Robert  Raikes's  Sunday-school.  Sow  in 
the  morning,  and  also  "  in  the  evening  withhold  not  thine 
hand."  "Give  a  portion  to  seven,  and  also  to  eight."  As 
the  husbandman,  dependent  and  short-sighted,  must  trust 
in  Providence,  and  do  his  work  without  too  anxioysly  re- 
garding the  weather,  so  must  we  work  for  Christ  and  for 
human  welfare. 

l*eople  eminently  useful  have  had  credit  for  sagacity  and 
foresight  when,  in  fact,  they  did  not  look  ahead  at  all,  but 
simply  went  about  their  Master's  business,  and  doing  with 
their  might  what  their  hand  found  to  do.  They  builded 
better  than  they  knew,  or  rather  they  did  not  know  that 
they  were  building  any  thing.  They  wrought  at  no  prob- 
lem. They  were  neither  inventore  nor  discoverers,  but 
users  of  implements  already  provided,  and  doing  precisely 
what  earnest  souls  had  always  done.  Qolumbus  stumbled 
upon  a  new  world  while  seeking  a  path  to  an  old  one. 
Methodism  is  called  a  child  of  Providence  because  it  has 
grown  without  a  plan  and  with  little  provision  on  the  part 
of  its  master- workmen.  Wesley  saw  the  world  around 
him  going  to  perdition,  and  dead  Churches  sunk  in  formal- 
ism and  in  spiritual  decay.  We  dare  say  he  looked  neither 
to  the  right  nor  to  the  left.     He  observed  neither  wind  nor 


846  The  Editor-Bishop. 

clouds,  but  went  forth  to  sow  and  also  to  reap.  He  did 
not  dream  that  a  great  Church  would  come  out  of  what  he 
was  doing,  nor  did  he  stop  to  consider  what  might  be  the 
results.  He  snatched  the  brands  from  the  burning  where 
he  could  find  them,  called  sinners  to  repentance,  put  his 
converts  in  societies,  and  left  the  matter  of  Church-making 
to  God. 

The  preacher  may  be  overcautious  about  casting  the 
gospel  net,  or  he  may  doubt  at  the  jwint  where  he  might 
have  had  a  revival.  The  signs  are  not  propitious,  as  he 
thinks,  for  church-building.  A  domestic  mission  is  needed, 
but  there  are  winds  and  clouds.  The  wise  ones  thought 
the  pioneer  missionaries  were  beside  themselves,  but  such 
men  as  Carey,  Judson,  Heber,  and  Morrison  went  forth 
leaving  the  weather  to  Him  who  governs  the  winds  and 
the  clouds.  Even  now  there  are  weather-wise  Christians 
who  shake  their  heads  and  say,  "Beware,"  when  any  for- 
ward movement  is  broached. 

The  true  missionary  spirit  is  not  that  of  cloud-watching. 
The  heathen  are  perishing,  and  we  can  reach  them  with 
the  message  of  salvation.  It  is  not  necessary  to  inquire 
when  the  millennium  will  come,  or  whether  it  will  ever 
come.  Nor  need  we  calculate  how  long  it  will  take  to 
convert  the  world,  or  whether  it  will  ever  be  converted. 
It  is  the  time  of  sowing,  and  the  ground  is  fallow.  It  is 
the  time  of  reaping,  and  the  fields  are  white  to  harvest. 
There  are  winds  adverse  and  wasteful  and  clouds  dark  and 
ominous.  But  it  matters  not.  We  must  work  now,  and 
do  our  best,  and  perhaps  leave  to  future  generations  the 
knowledge  of  Avhat  has  been  done. 

There  is  a  cautiousness  that  works  more  harm  than  reck- 
lessness— a  conservatism  that  does  not  conserve,  but  rather 
tends  to  decay  and  to  death.  There  is  a  divinity  that 
shapes  the  end  of  the  real   and   irrepressible  toiler  for 


Teachings  of  the  Clouds.  347 

Christ.  Men  marvel  at  his  temerity  when  he  begins,  and 
are  struck  with  wonder  at  the  success  that  crowns  the  en- 
deavor. Let  us  move  on,  and  let  God  take  care  about 
the  weather. 


DAYS  AND  SEASONS. 


THANKSGIVING. 

THE  chief  truth  underlying  the  appointment  of  a  day 
of  thanksgiving  is  the  recognition  of  the  existence  of 
God  and  that  he  is  our  Ci-eator  and  Preserver.  This  is  not 
all  that  the  Christian  would  like  to  have,  but  it  is  even 
more  than  forty  Inillions  of  people  can  agree  upon.  The 
materialists  would  rule  out  any  mention  of  God  and  fail  to 
see  any  thing  but  an  absurd  superstition  in  the  whole  affair. 
People  of  deistical  notions,  after  the  fashion  of  Hume  and 
some  of  his  contemporaries,  can  find  nothing  in  their  con- 
ceptions of  God  to  warrant  gratitude  or  thankfulness  at  one 
time  more  than  another.  Our  Hebrew  citizens  can  consist- 
ently thank  God,  but  they  cannot  tolerate  the  name  of  Christ 
in  connection  with  a  presidential  proclamation  or  in  worship. 
In  their  own  way,  and  in  accord  with  their  several  convic- 
tions, people  will  give  thanks.  Prelatical,  High-church 
folks.  Catholics,  and  some  others,  will  look  upon  the  up- 
pointment  of  a  day  by  the  President  as  interfering  with 
churchly  prerogatives — as  a  high-handed  usurpation. 

The  majority  of  Protestant  Christians,  however,  will  not 
stand  much  upon  the  order  or  form  of  the  matter,  but  will 
pray  and  give  thanks  "  through  Jesus  Christ."  Neither 
will  they  stumble  at  the  fact  that  the  proclamation  comes 
from  no  very  devout  source  and  that  they  are  called  to  give 
thanks  at  a  time  when  it  would  be  more  appropriate  to  put 
on  sackcloth  and  devote  the  day  to  fasting.  It  is  well  al- 
ways to  give  thanks,  "  and  praise  is  comely  for  the  upright 
in  heart."    God  has  done  his  part  toward  making  us  a  great, 


Days  and  Seasons.  349 

prosperous,  and  free  people,  and  if  we  are  not  all  of  these 
it  is  no  fault  of  his.  Thousands  of  people  are  this  day  with- 
out bread  and  raiment,  and  the  country  was  never  more 
sorely  pressed  and  straitened  in  its  business  and  finances ; 
but  so  far  as  this  state  of  things  is  due  to  political  causes, 
the  nation  has  itself  to  blame.  The  present  crisis — which 
has  unsettled  every  thing,  and  is  entailing  distress,  bank- 
ruptcy, and  want  upon  multitudes — is  the  result  of  years 
of  oppression  and  despotism  which  the  majority  has  left  un- 
rebuked,  God  is  not  the  author  of  sin.  He  has  not  made 
the  corruption,  dishonesty,  and  moral  pollution  which  stalk 
abroad  in  society  and  rule  in  high  places. 

God  has  done  his  part  for  our  welfare  in  that  he  has  giv- 
en us  fruitful  seasons  and  has  sent  his  rain  and  sun  upon 
the  just  and  the  unjust.  No  general  visitations  of  pesti- 
lence have  been  among  us;  there  have  been  no  overwhelm- 
ing earthquakes,  no  far-spreading  and  devastating  storms. 
The  miseries  that  are  upon  us  and  those  that  threaten  are 
of  our  own  making  as  a  nation.  The  people,  as  a  people, 
must  condemn  themselves  for  the  misfortunes  they  suffer, 
while  they  have  God  to  thank  for  all  the  blessings  they  en- 
joy. Virtue  and  piety  are  the  only  roads  to  national  pros- 
perity and  happiness.  Without  these,  good  crops,  benign 
seasons,  good  health,  and  inexhaustible  material  resources 
will  be  in  vain. 

Attributing  as  we  do  our  sufferings  to  the  vileness  of  man, 
we  do  not  doubt  that  God  in  his  providence  will  somehow 
overrule  the  strife  and  wickedness  of  men  for  good.  He  is 
ever  educing  good  out  of  evil,  and  mercifully  guides  the 
storm  which  human  passion  and  selfishness  raise.  We 
must  not,  in  our  painful  consciousness  of  political  abuses 
and  a  limited  commercial  prosperity,  overlook  the  many 
blessings  given  in  our  domestic  relations,  in  our  deliverance 
from  famine,  and  in  at  least  the  moderate  supply  of  things 


350  The  Editor-Bishop. 

necessary.  Under  the  rank  wild  grass  and  beneath  the 
dark  forest  branches  there  are  many  humble  but  beautiful 
and  fragrant  flowers.  Beneath  this  fi-owning  autunmal  sky 
there  are  some  hardy  blossoms  of  rare  brilliance  and  splen- 
dor. People  happy  in  their  homes,  without  luxuries  but 
with  many  comforts,  should  not  crush  the  bloom  at  their 
feet  while  gazing  with  troubled  brows  upon  the  general 
troubles  of  the  land.  Let  us  be  fair  and  honest,  and  give 
thanks  for  the  things  we  have. 

If  we  cannot  give  our  gratitude  a  national  turn,  we  can 
as  individuals  give  glory  to  God  for  his  providential  care ; 
and  the  more  heartily  that  in  the  midst  of  national  disturb- 
ance and  financial  distress  we  have  had  })reservation  and 
things  necessary.  The  Christian  dwells  apart;  he  walks 
with  God.  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  him,  and  he 
finds  occasion  for  thanksgiving  and  praise  where  other  souls 
are  only  given  to  distrust  and  murmuring.  The  nation  has 
held  together  a  hundred  yeare,  and  we  as  individuals  are 
yet  alive,  and  the  Lord  reigneth.  Let  us  thank  God  and 
take  courage. 

CHRISTMAS  GREETINGS. 

The  day  has  come  again,  and  we  wish  our  readers  joy. 
The  world  has  a  Saviour.  He  came  into  the  world,  and 
he  came  to  stay.  His  birth  has  made  a  new  world  of 
the  sin-cursed  and  death-stricken  earth.  The  mystery  and 
the  glory  of  the  incarnation  stirred  the  universe.  The  wise 
men  of  the  East  Avere  drawn  to  the  spot  where  the  holy 
child  was,  the  heavenly  powers  broke  into  song  over  the 
event  which  was  to  rise  above  all  epochs  in  history,  and  we 
may  well  believe  that  Satan  was  startled  by  the  long-pre- 
dicted advent. 

Christ  in  the  world!     This  is  the  import  of  our  Christ- 


Days  and  Seasons,  351 

mas.  He  came,  and  his  work  of  redemption  is  going  for- 
ward. The  babe  is  now  the  crowned  and  mighty  King. 
His  kingdom  is  come  and  is  coming.  His  presence  is  felt 
in  every  land,  and  every  year  increases  the  number  of  those 
who  join  in  the  anthem  of  praise.  A  world  without  a 
Christ!  Could  any  thing  be  more  drear  and  dark  than  life 
without  the  consciousness  that  he  has  come  and  that  he 
came  to  be  with  us  forever?  In  spite  of  its  teai-s  and  sor- 
rows and  death,  life  is  grand  and  beautiful  as  it  stands  light- 
ed up  and  transfigured  by  the  Sun  of  righteousness.  The 
general  joy  is  from  this  great  fact.  It  may  have  a  low  ex- 
pression and  be  often  perverted  to  base  and  sensual  gratifi- 
cations, and  the  most  of  those  who  join  in  the  annual  festiv- 
ities may  have  little  apprehension  of  the  indescribable  glory 
of  the  redemptive  plan,  but  the  sentiment  has  become  root- 
ed and  universal  that  a  Saviour — God's  only-begotten — was 
given  as  the  manifestation  of  infinite  wisdom  and  love. 

Happy  for  us  if  we  may  realize  to-day  th«t  we  have  a 
Saviour  in  our  homes.  Christ  is  in  history;  his  gospel  has 
entered  into  the  civilization,  the  thought,  and  the  worship 
of  the  world  at  large.  But  avo  must  bring  the  child  Jesus 
into  the  family  circle  and  into  the  domestic  gladness  and 
reunions  which  mark  the  occasion.  Parents  and  children 
and  household  associations  are  drawn  around  this  conse- 
crated center  of  all  love  and  happiness,  and  all  should  feel 
how  completely  their  sweetest  pleasures  and  brightest  hopes 
grow  out  of  him  who  was  born  in  Bethlehem  of  Judea  and 
whose  infant  form  was  laid  in  the  rude  manger.  Let  the 
children  be  glad.  And  yet  it  should  not  be  a  Christless 
Christmas,  as  is  too  often  the  case.  It  is  peculiarly  their 
hour,  as  the  Redeemer  was  a  child  and  as  they  are  in  a  spe- 
cial sense  the  objects  of  his  love.  Their  joy  is  due  to  Je- 
sus, and  Christian  childhood  is  invested  with  a  happiness 
unknown  to  the  childhood  of  heathen  and  pagan  lands* 


352  The  Editor-Bishop. 

The  blessings  which  the  gospel  brings  to  little  children  are 
among  the  most  wonderful  and  striking  of  all.  They  ought 
to  cry  "Hosanna!"  and  to  be  first  to  bring  their  tribute  of 
praise  and  to  crown  the  Saviour  Lord  of  all.  The  child  Je- 
sus was  a  gift  to  the  childhood  of  the  whole  world,  and 
therefore  let  the  children  sing  and  let  them  be  glad.  Christ 
in  the  family,  at  the  fireside,  at  the  well-spread  board,  and 
amidst  the  groups  of  reunited  kindred!  So  it  should  be. 
Not  revelry,  dissipation,  and  sensual  indulgence,  but  a  sense 
of  Christ's  presence  at  the  feast  and  as  the  revered  and  hon- 
ored guest  of  every  house.  He  stands  at  the  door  and 
knocks,  and  most  happy  is  that  home  to  which  he  is  ad- 
mitted. 

Christ  in  the  heart !  This  should  be  the  cro\vning  expe- 
rience. Always  in  the  heart,  but  especially  to-day.  His 
felt  presence  and  grace  in  the  soul  are  essential  to  our  hap- 
piness, and  are  also  needed  to  keep  us  from  the  hurtful 
and  silly  dissipations  so  prevalent.  The  devout  believer 
will  not  be  in  sympathy  with  the  reckless  merriment  and 
intemperate  reveries  which  too  much  characterize  the  holi- 
day season.  He  will,  however  turn  more  than  ever  to  Jesus 
as  his  hope  and  consolation ;  and  while  others  are  exclusive- 
ly making  provision  for  the  flesh  to  fulfill  the  lusts  thereof, 
he  will  be  careful  to  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Christ 
will  be  in  him  the  hope  of  glory,  and  his  heart  will  be  in 
unison  with  the  ^vise  men  who  brought  their  precious  gifts 
and  their  grateful  worship  to  the  newborn  Saviour;  and 
his  soul  will  be  in  most  perfect  accord  with  the  angelic  song: 
"Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good-will 
toward  men."  Christ  in  the  world,  in  the  family,  in  the 
heart!  May  this  be  the  direction  of  our  meditations  and 
the  ground  of  our  rejoicing.  "We  wish  our  readers  joy  in 
the  social  amenities  and  intercourse  of  their  homes,  in 
the  happy  compauionship  of  friends  and  kindred,  and  joy 


Days  and  Seasons.  353 

in  Christ — the  Child  that  was  born,  the  Son  that  was 
given. 

NEW-YEAR. 

A  LIFE  without  dates,  and  with  nothing  to  mark  the  lapse 
of  time,  would  be  highly  unsatisfactory.  Gray  hairs,  wrin- 
kles, and  bodily  decay  might  indicate  the  fact  that  we  are 
growing  old,  but  we  like  to  know  how  old  the  world  is  and 
how  old  we  are  ourselves.  There  is  a  certain  beneficence 
in  the  existence  of  dates,  of  epochs,  and  definite  way-marks 
in  the  journey  of  life.  It  is  well,  in  many  respects,  that 
the  year  has  a  recognized  beginning  and  end ;  that  there  is 
this  mile-stone  to  remind  the  traveler  of  the  ground  he  has 
passed  over,  and  of  the  lessening  distance  between  him  and 
"the  house  appointed  for  all  living."  Time  passes  inex- 
orably and  swiftly.  It  can  neither  be  arrested  nor  retard- 
ed, but  the  motion  seems  accelerated  by  every  revolution 
of  the  earth,  so  that  as  our  days  decrease  in  number  they 
appear  to  grow  more  rapid  in  their  flight. 

We  may  pause  to  speculate  upon  the  years  that  remain 
and  where  we  are  in  reference  to  the  entire  measure  of  our 
probation.  Have  we  but  fairly  entered,  have  we  reached 
the  meridian  line,  or  are  we  near  the  night  which  sooner  or 
later  shuts  down  upon  every  mortal  life?  In  many  in- 
stances it  is  more  than  a  mere  conjecture  that  this  new  year 
shall  be  the  last.  The  extremely  aged  do  not  look  beyond 
it,  the  hopelessly  diseased  are  waiting  the  final  summons, 
and  many  who  in  health  are  passing  out  of  middle  life  are 
reminded  by  the  lengthening  shadows  of  the  nearness  of 
eternity.  With  thousands,  however,  who  are  in  the  bloom 
of  youth'*' the  morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night."  In- 
stead of  the  gradual  and  mellow  tints  of  the  sunset,  their 
end  will  come  with  the  suddenness  and  gloom  of  the  solar 
23 


354  The  Editok-Bisuop. 

eclipse.  Their  sun  will  go  out  without  going  down.  Death's 
harvest  of  the  past  year  is  sure  to  be  repeated  in  the  pres- 
ent, and  among  those  that  fall  will  be  representatives  of 
every  age  and  condition. 

New-year's-day  is  not,  therefore  to  be  a  time  of  gloom  be- 
cause an  occasion  of  serious  reflection.  Those  who  have  a 
right  to  be  joyous  under  any  circumstances  may  be  so  to- 
day. To  the  Christian  there  is  nothing  saddening  in  the 
brevity  of  life,  nothing  calculated  to  cause  gloom  in  the 
lengthening  shadows.  "With  him  "to  live  is  Christ,  and  to 
die  is  gain."  He  is  one  year  nearer  home ;  and  if  this  year 
be  his  last  on  earth,  it  will  record  his  entrance  into  the  rest 
of  God's  people.  The  impenitent  sinner  has  no  right  to 
cheerfulness  at  any  time,  and  never  less  than  the  very  time 
which  he  most  devotes  to  tlioughtless  mirth  and  extravagant 
demonstrations  of  joy.  To  him  the  past  is  one  of  condem- 
nation, and  he  is  a  year  nearer  the  judgment — a  year  nearer 
hell!  He  is  a  guiltier  being  than  he  was  twelve  months 
ago,  and  the  time  to  come  only  deepens  that  guilt.  Of  the 
Christless  soul,  even  in  the  holidays,  we  may  adopt  the  in- 
spired words:  "I  said  of  laughter,  it  is  mad;  and  of  mirth, 
what  doeth  it?"  What  greater  madness  than  laughter, 
mirth,  and  reveling  whilst  men  are  "  without  God,  and  hav- 
ing no  hope  in  the  world?"  What  place  is  there  for  mirth 
when  the  fleeting  years  are  only  hurrying  them  unprepared 
into  the  presence  of  an  angry  God?  What  doeth  it,  this 
unseemly  and  incongruous  mirth,  when  there  is  but  a  step 
between  the  soul  and  eternal  death?  The  one  condition 
and  element  of  real  happiness  is  wanting,  and  it  is  a  farce, 
a  mockery,  a  solemn  delusion,  to  think  of  its  possession  un- 
til we  have  given  up  our  sins  and  surrendered  all  at  the 
Saviour's  feet. 

By  many  the  beginning  of  the  new  year  has  been  looked 
forward  to  as  the  occasion  of  carrying  their  good  resolutions 


Days  and  Seasons.  355 


into  effect.  Christians  have  purposed  to  enter  upon  a  closer 
walk  with  God,  and  to  give  more  attention  to  their  religious 
duties.  The  unconverted  have  set  it  apart  as  a  time  for 
their  entrance  into  the  visible  Church  and  the  beginning  of 
their  religious  profession  and  practice.  It  is  the  appointed 
day  for  reformation,  the  breaking  off  of  bad  habits,  and  the 
inauguration  of  a  new  and  better  order  of  living.  But  will 
these  good  resolutions  be  kept?  If  the  believer  has  felt  the 
need  of  a  deeper  work  of  grace,  why  has  he  put  it  off  until 
this  day?  How  has  he  dared  thus  to  limit  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel,  and  to  defer  what  duty,  conscience,  and  reason  de- 
manded at  once.  The  serious-minded  sinner  will  find  no 
mystical  or  talismanic  spell  in  the  day  which  begins  the 
calendar  of  another  year.  The  self-renunciation  will  be 
harder,  the  conflict  with  the  corrupt  nature  will  be  even 
more  difficult  than  six  months  ago.  The  act  in  every  case 
should  be  contemporaneous  with  the  serious  conviction  and 
purpose.  The  resolve  was  a  bribe  to  conscience,  and  the 
performance  is  easily  postponed.  Every  thing  is  lost  when 
men  consent  to  defer  an  obvious  present  duty,  and  especial- 
ly when  they  brace  themselves  with  the  obligation  of  a  defi- 
nite day.  There  was  sin  in  the  postponement,  and  it  will 
not  be  wanting  in  most  cases  Avhen  the  set  time  arrives. 
The  probabilities  are  strong  that  the  Christian  Avho  has  been 
waiting  for  the  new  year  in  order  to  realize  a  higher  type 
of  piety  will  continue  to  live  in  a  low  and  declining  state. 
It  is  almost  certain  that  the  majority  of  those  who  have  de- 
termined upon  moral  and  religious  reformation  will  pass  the 
assigned  limit  and  go  on  in  their  sins.  The  very  worst  use 
of  the  day  is  to  make  it  the  axis  and  target  of  good  resolu- 
tions. The  same  influences  that  led  to  the  putting  off  of 
the  call  of  God  will  carry  the  procrastinator  beyond  the 
prescribed  limit,  and  launch  him  upon  another  year  of  un- 
belief.    To  resolve  to  be  a  Christian,  or  to  resolve  to  be  a 


356  The  Editok-Bishop. 

better  Christian,  at  some  future  day  is  a  most  heinous  sin. 
It  is  trifling  with  God,  and  insulting  his  goodness  and  au- 
thority. It  can  only  be  done  by  resisting  the  Spirit  and  by 
deliberate  rebellion  against  the  divine  government. 

The  voice  of  the  old  year  is  a  sermon  of  manifold  instruc- 
tion and  application,  calling  for  gratitude  for  mercies  tem- 
poral and  spiritual,  for  humiliation  and  self-abaserc.snt,  for 
penitence,  and  for  honest  searching  of  heart.  Above  all  its 
lessons  is  the  importance  of  an  immediate  and  decided  choice 
of  *'  that  good  part."  In  view  of  the  failures  and  sins  of 
the  past,  the  waste  of  time,  the  perversion  of  opportunities, 
we  shall  do  well  to  adopt  the  psalmist's  prayer:  "So  teach 
us  to  number  our  days  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto 
wisdom."  If  we  have  come  so  far  without  having  enlisted 
for  Christ,  by  all  means  set  up  the  tabernacle  "on  the  first 
day  of  the  first  month,"  and  let  this  be  the  glad  day  of  our 
espousals.  A  happy  New-year  it  will  be  if  it  marks  the  be- 
ginning of  a  new  life,  or  if  it  is  signalized  as  its  triumphant 
end.  Toil  and  care,  poverty  and  suffering  may  be  in  store, 
but  it  will  be  a  happy  year  if  God  go  with  us.  Doubtless 
the  year  dawns  gloomily  upon  many.  The  earthly  outlook 
is  most  disheartening,  and  they  venture  forth  with  fear  and 
trembling;  but  it  may  be  a  happy  year,  nevertheless,  if 
Christ's  footsteps  are  on  the  billows,  and  if  his  form  moves 
amidst  the  tumult  of  the  elements.  Through  all  the  weary 
pilgrimage,  through  the  waste,  howling  wilderness,  and  in 
the  face  of  the  mightiest  enemies,  the  ancient  promise  stands : 
"My  presence  shall  go  with  thee,  and  I  will  give  thee  rest." 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  SPRING. 

The  language  of  the  season,  when  devoutly  interpreted, 
is  full  of  profitable  lessons.  All  nature  is  now  reviving 
from  its  temporary  death  and  starting  into  new  life.     The 


Days  and  Seasons.  357 

vegetable  kingdom  is  awaking  from  its  winter's  slumber 
and  entering  upon  a  period  of  renewed  activity.  The 
mighty  forces  that  have  for  a  time  been  held  in  torpid  si- 
lence begin  to  assort  their  power,  and  the  hidden  life  is 
bursting  forth  into  manifold  forms  of  melody  and  beauty. 
The  foliage  of  the  trees  and  the  music  of  the  birds,  the 
fragrance  of  the  flowers  and  the  hum  of  insects,  are  the 
heralds  of  the  refulgent  summer.  "Awake,  thou  that  sleep- 
est,"  is  the  message  of  spring  to  the  soul.  The  season  not 
only  calls  the  husbandman  to  fresh  and  vigorous  activity, 
but  it  reminds  us  of  our  spiritual  vocation  to  higher  expe- 
riences in  the  kingdom  of  God.  While  it  is  a  type  of  the 
better  resurrection  which  awaits  the  body  after  the  winter 
of  the  grave,  it  is  also  an  illustration  of  those  blessed  re- 
newals of  the  Spirit  which  come  to  all  that  patiently  wait 
upon  the  Lord.  The  universal  awakening  in  nature  finds 
its  archetype  in  the  revival  of  grace  in  the  heart  and  in 
the  times  of  refreshing  which  visit  the  churches. 

The  spring,  with  its  ever-surprising  and  wondrous  phe- 
nomena, is  one  of  the  grandest  apologues  that  can  be  ap- 
plied to  spiritual  things,  and  especially  as  it  exhibits  this 
aspect  of  a  renewed  and  more  vigorous  life.  Its  voice  to 
the  slumbering  Cliristian  comes  up  from  the  forest  and  the 
fields,  and  from  the  buds  and  blossoms  of  the  orchard  and 
garden.  Its  notes  of  promise  and  encouragement  sound 
from  the  groves  and  hills  and  ovei'flowing  streams.  Zion 
is  admonished,  by  the  attire  of  verdure  and  bloom  with 
which  the  earth  is  invested,  to  awake  and  to  put  on  her 
beautiful  garments,  while  the  believer  is  to  put  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  to  be  clothed  with  salvation.  To  many 
the  recent  past  had  been  a  time  of  guilty  repose,  a  bleak 
and  cheerless  waste  without  warmth  or  gladness;  but  there 
is  a  renewing  power  to  bring  back  the  times  of  joy  and 
singing.     The  sinner  has  been  dead   long  enough.     The 


358  The  Editor-Bishop. 

gospel  of  spring  to  him  is  to  warn  and  to  invite.  He  must 
leel  the  power  of  a  spiritual  resurrection  and  experience 
the  creative  omnipotence  which  quickens  the  death  of 
winter  into  vernal  sweetness  and  exuberant  life.  The 
change  from  nature  to  grace  is  as  marked  and  extraordi- 
nary as  that  which  indicates  the  transition  from  the  gloom 
of  December  to  the  brightness  of  May.  The  unconverted 
and  careless  soul  may  thus  hear  the  voice  of  awakening  and 
promise.  This  activity  and  irrepressible  energy  in  the  lower 
forms  of  life,  and  this  reanimation  of  dead  things  in  the 
earth,  the  waters,  and  the  air,  should  be  as  a  sound  from 
heaven  arousing  the  unbelieving  heart  to  earnest  concern 
for  salvation.  A  winter  without  a  spring  is  simply  death 
everlasting,  and  a  soul  unawakened  and  unrenewed  neces- 
sarily sinks  into  the  blackness  of  darkness  forever.  The 
gospel  of  the  written  word  and  the  gospel  of  the  season  are 
in  harmony.  Their  common  message  to  saint  and  sinner  is 
one  of  a  reviving  and  an  awakening  realization  of  our  re- 
ligious privileges  and  responsibilities. 

And  what  more  strikingly  illustrates  the  change  in  con- 
version than  the  contrasts  between  winter  and  spring? 
Spring  is  the  world  regenerated,  and  is  as  the  babe  in 
Christ,  embracing  the  possibilities  of  the  coming  seasons, 
and  having  substantially  in  itself  the  germs  of  all  glory 
and  of  all  perfection.  Nothing  in  nature  is  so  like  a  birth 
from  above  as  the  transformations  which  take  place  in  this 
period  of  boundless  and  startling  changes.  If  any  man  be 
in  Christ  he  is  a  new  creation  after  some  such  manner  as 
the  material  world  is  when  it  feels  the  renovating  and  vital 
breath  of  spring.  The  old  things  of  a  state  of  unbelief 
have  passed  away,  when  the  sinner  is  delivered  from  the 
power  of  darkness,  very  much  as  the  last  vestiges  of  wintry 
desolation  have  retreated  before  the  sunshine.  The  light 
and  warmth  which  have  given  health  and  life  to  vcgeta- 


Days  and  Seasons.  359 

tion  are  symbols  of  the  Sun  of  righteousness,  whose  heal- 
ing wings  bring  peace  and  comfort  to  the  contrite  spirit. 
As  we  look  upon  the  earth  and  sky,  clothed  and  garnished 
in  the  radiance  of  the  cloudless  morning,  and  exclaim,  "  Bv- 
hold,  all  things  are  become  new!"  so  is  it  when  the  mourner 
in  Zion  enters  into  the  marvelous  light  of  God  and  feels  the 
love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  his  heart  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Like  the  transition  in  the  seasons,  conversion  is  life  from 
the  dead,-  the  passing  from  death  unto  life,  and  a  transla- 
tion from  this  power  of  darkness  into  the  kingdom  of  God's 
dear  Son.  The  gospel  of  spring  is  not  only  a  call  to  awake 
out  of  sleep,  but  it  is  also  to  arise  from  the  dead  and  to  be- 
come the  children  of  light.  It  coincides  with  the  central 
and  overmastering  necessity  of  our  natures:  "  Ye  must  be 
born  again."  The  voice  that  wakes  up  and  revivifies  the 
world  of  nature  must  be  heard  in  the  depths  of  the  soul,  and 
the  dead  spirit  must  be  raised  and  changed. 

It  will  be  well  if  the  season  of  blossoms  and  melody  is 
allowed  to  impress  us  with  the  character  of  true  religion. 
The  garment  of  praise  is  given  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness. 
All  living  nature — animate  and  inanimate — accords  with 
the  prophetic  evangel  which  promises  "  beauty  for  ashes, 
and  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning."  The  visible  and  material 
mirror  those  images  of  the  inspired  pen  which  stamp  a.  pres- 
ent blessedness  upon  the  religious  experience.  Religion  is 
clad  in  singing  robes,  such  as  the  spring  wears  in  her  ex- 
haustless  wealth  of  radiance  and  harmonies.  It  is  an  epi- 
thalamium,  and  not  a  dirge.  God  clothes  the  world  in  forms 
of  grace  and  in  the  richest  colors,  and  decks  the  hill-sides 
and  gems  the  meadows  with  flowers  of  the  gayest  and  most 
brilliant  tints.  He  has  made  every  thing  beautiful  in  its 
time,  and  thrown  over  all  his  creatures  the  sj^ell  of  a  jubi- 
lant and  tuneful  inspiration.  Christ  in  the  heart  is  a  feast 
of  delight,  a  spring  breaking  forth  in  the  desert,  and  a  gar- 


360  The  Editor-BisuOp. 

den  in  the  wilderness.  His  is  not  a  religion  of  cowls  and 
sackcloth  and  cloisters,  but  a  praise  and  a  joy  forever. 

This  inspiring  season  reminds  us  that  the  present  is  the 
period  of  preparation  and  of  seed-time.  Grace  is  glory  in 
the  bud  and  the  earnest  of  the  heavenly  inheritance.  No.v 
the  sower  goes  forth  to  sow,  and  an  all-gracious  Providence 
is  watching  over  every  form  of  embryonic  life.  "Thou 
makest  the  outgoings  of  the  morning  and  evening  to  rejoice. 
Thou  visitest  the  earth  and  waterest  it ;  thou  greatly  enrich- 
estit  with  the  river  of  God,  which  is  full  of  water."  Under 
the  genial  influences  of  the  divine  mercy  we  labor  in  an- 
ticipation of  a  golden  harvest.  The  germs  of  life  are  spring- 
ing and  the  buds  are  unfolding — prophetic  of  the  final  re- 
sult. The  beginnings  of  an  endless  life  are  in  the  still  and 
unseen  processes  which  are  going  forward  in  the  heart. 
The  believer  is  in  all  things  working  for  eternity;  he  is 
working  together  with  God,  improving  the  season  and  mak- 
ing the  most  of  its  sun  and  showers.  Wonderful  and  satisfying 
as  are  the  present  experiences,  there  is  in  them  this  charac- 
ter of  preparation,  and  this  looking  to  something  beyond, 
of  which  they  are  but  the  promise.  "  It  doth  not  yet  ap- 
pear what  we  shall  be,"  but  the  believing  heart  rejoices  in 
the  conscious  foretaste  of  a  measureless  good. 

We  do  no  violence  to  the  analogies  of  the  natural  and 
the  supernatural  when  we  assert  that  the  gospel  of  spring 
embraces  the  resurrection  of  the  just.  Not  that  other  res- 
urrection which  is  to  shame  and  everlasting  contempt, 
but  that  which  is  to  everlasting  life.  The  sleep  of  the 
grave  is  at  length  to  give  place  to  the  last  and  crown- 
ing miracle  of  our  faith.  As  yet,  "since  the  fathers  fell 
asleep,  all  things  continue  as  they  were  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  creation,"  even  as  in  midwinter,  when  nature 
gives  no  sign  of  her  approaching  life.  But  we  know  that 
the  sun,  in  his  appointed  time,  will  retrace  his  path  of  fire, 


Days  and  Seasons.  361 


and  that  this  apparent  death  shall  yield  to  life.  The  gen- 
erations are  waiting  for  this  manifestation  of  the  sons  of 
God,  and  all  the  plans  and  purposes  of  the  Redeemer  are 
moving  toward  this  stupendous  consummation.  The  season 
of  returning  life  and  joy  joins  its  voice  to  that  ot  a  more 
sure  word  of  prophecy:  "Awake  and  sing,  ye  that  dwell  in 
the  dust ;  for  thy  dew  is  as  the  dew  of  herbs,  and  the  earth 
shall  cast  out  the  dead."      

THE  FALL  OF  THE  LEAVES. 

The  season  has  come  again  when  the  leaves  are  dropping 
into  their  autumnal  graves.  It  seems  but  yesterday  that 
they  opened  out  of  the  spring  buds  and  spread  their  soil 
green  palms  to  the  sunshine.  But  it  is  months  ago  that 
they  were  born — a  life-time  in  the  vegetable  world  has 
nearly  passed,  and,  having  served  their  generation,  they 
are  now  about  to  fall  on  sleep.  Many  have  fallen  prema- 
turely; and  herein  they  are  a  type  of  human  mortality — 
fallen,  while  yet  green  and  unwithered,  by  the  hand  of  vi- 
olence or  torn  by  some  rude  blast.  Thus  perish  the  young 
and  the  strong — dying  without  iliding,  and  preserved  in 
memory,  as  in  an  herbarium,  ever  young  and  beautiful. 

The  prelude  of  death  in  the  leaves  is  wonderfully  gor- 
geous and  impressive.  All  the  brilliant  tints  are  lavished 
upon  them.  All  the  splendors  of  coloring  are  displayed  in 
the  forests  as  they  are  about  to  be  unclothed.  The  death- 
robes,  woven  of  purple  and  gold,  far  surpass  the  liveries 
of  spring  and  summer.  They  seem  to  be  clad  for  a  glori- 
ous translation  rather  than  for  a  bed  in  the  dust.  They  are 
arrayed  in  royal  apparel  as  if  enjoying  a  triumph  and  as  if 
marching  in  the  pomp  and  grandeur  of  conscious  victory. 
Fading  "as  a  leaf"  brings  with  it  other  thoughts  than  those 
of  mere  frailty  and  decay.  The  revelation  of  life  and  im- 
mortality invests  old  age  with  a  peculiar  glory,  and  the 


862  The  Ei>iTou-13isiior. 

spiritual  life  iu  its  maturity  glows  with  a  light  of  suj^ernal 
radiance.  The  fix)sti5  of  age,  like  those  of  autumn  upon 
the  foliage,  beautify  while  they  destroy,  and  life  Avinds  up 
in  a  blaze  of  manifold  colorings  which  neither  spring  nor 
summer  could  produce.  The  fall  of  the  leaf  is  often  tran- 
quil. Its  hold  is  released  by  the  gentlest  zephyr,  and  no 
torn  and  bleeding  fibers  indicate  that  nature  has  sustained 
a  violent  shock.  It  is  death  in  its  gentler  aspects,  coming 
when  expected,  and  in  harmony  with  all  the  moods  and  as- 
pects of  the  world  around.  Tl^ip  breeze  that  seVtrs,  like 
unseen  angels'  wings,  bears  it  softly  and  slowly  to  its  rest- 
ing-place. 

The  fate  of  the  leaves,  however  and  whenever  they  fall,  is 
the  type  of  a  univereal  p^ortality.  They  all  go  sooner  oij^ 
later,  and  the  evergreens  differ  from  others  only  in  this: 
that  they  are  ever  dying,  just  as  the  human  race  iS"  ever 
wasting  and  renewing  its  life.  Some  autumn  leavee,  though 
withered  and  sear,  hold  most  tenaciously  to  the  bough,  re- 
sisting the  storms  which  have  scattered  all  their  compan- 
ions; but  they  yield  at  length  to  the  inexorable  law.  The 
hour  comes  when  not  one  of  these  myriads  which  came 
forth  with  the  spring  buds  is  left.  It  is  even  so  with  man. 
The  falling  leaves  are  rehearsing  in  his  ears  the  lesson  of 
his  mortality,  and  iu  their  quiet  way  are  telling  him  what 
he  likes  not  to  hear  or  heed.  Amietyjie,  type,  or  parable, 
their  language  is  plain,  With  no  clamorous  voice,  and 
with  no  vociferous  cries,  like  the  stai-s,  only  with  another 
mission,  "  there  is  no  speech  nor  language  where  their  voice 
is  not  heard,"  The  fall  comes  to  us  with  this  among  its 
other  annual  sermons.  It  speaks  in  the  pomp  of  its  unap- 
proachable hues,  the  serenely  ebbing  life  of  all  the  wealth 
of  foliage  with  which  the  trees  of  the  grove  and  wood  are 
adorned,  and  in  the  sure  but  beautiful  death  which  is  over- 
taking every  leaf. 


Days  and  Hioasoxs.  3G3 

jThere  is  a  moral  leaf  that  does  not  wither,  a  spiritual 
tree  that  is  planted  by  the  river  of  waters.  But  as  to  our 
material  life,  in  this  world  "  we  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf;"  the 
marks  ot'  decay  are  upon  us,  and  the  touch  of  autumn's 
breath  tinges  every  face.  It  may  not  have  been  so  with 
the  trees  of  paradise,  and  it  will  not  be  so  with  those  trees 
which  grow  upon  the  banks  of  the  river  of  life.  There  is  a 
land  where  the  falling  leaves  and  their  lessons  have  passed 
into  history,  and  where  there  shall  be  no  more  death.  It  is 
to  our  world  of  sin  .and  death  that  the  fading  leaf  is  con- 
fined, where  the  symbol  is  realized,  and  where  the  warning 
is  needed.  And  thus,  while  it  preaches  deatii,  it  leads  our 
thoughts  farther,  to  a  blessedness  and  life  altogether  in  con- 
trast with  the  brevity  and  vanityiof  the  present.  The  per- 
oration glides  unconsciously  and -inevitably  into  the  realms 
of  life  eternal. 

Tliere  happier  bowers  than  Eden's  bloom, 

Nor  sin  nor  sorrow  know: 
Blest  seats!  through  rude  and  stormy  scenes 

I  onward  press  to  you. 


BIRTHDAYS. 

To  every  one  these  days  come  with  incentives  to  serious 
thought  and  meditation.  The  birthday  of  another  may 
aw&keu  a  degree  of  interest,  but  there  is  something  more 
serious  and  intensely  personal  in  our  own.  It  has  been  the 
occasion  of  feasting  and  rejoicing,  especially  among  the 
great  and  royal  in  all  times;  and  it  is,  among  humbler  folk, 
an  occasion  of  friendly  congratulation.  Why  our  friends 
should  notice  the  day  is  perhaps  to  Ixjthus  explained:  They 
mean  not  to  say  ve  are  glad  you  are  growing  old,  and  that 
you  have  left  another  mile-stone  behind  you  on  the  road  to 
the  grave.     If  this  should  sometimes  be  the  secret  feeling. 


364  The  Editor-Bishop. 

none  would  care  to  express  it.  What  then?  This  perhaps: 
We  are  glad  that  you  were  born,  and  that  you  have  lived  so 
long.  It  is  well  for  us  and  for  the  world  that  you  are  still 
alive.  The  door  is  open  also  for  that  kind  and  well-meant 
flattery  that  tells  how  gently  time  is  dealing  with  us,  how 
young  for  our  years,  and  for  the  expression  of  wishes  that 
many  and  happy  yeai-s  may  be  added  to  the  earthly  term. 

The  day  is  all  one's  own,  as  other  anniversary  days  are 
not.  In  them  all  the  world  seems  to  be  irrowine;  old  to- 
gether,  and  the  thin^^Wommemorated  belong  to  the  joy,  sor- 
row, and  instruction  oi  multitudes.  Other  people  may  have 
been  born  on  the  same  day,  as  many  were;  and  other  events 
happened,  as  great  qjid  decisive  battles,  important  discoveries 
and  inventions,  revolutions  for  freedom,  earthquakes.  These 
coincidences  do  not  invade  our  domain  nor  interfere  with 
our  proprietorship.  To  him  who  was  born  it  was  a  very  mo- 
mentous dky ;  even  to  the  most  obscure  it  was  a  more  im- 
portant day  than  that  which  dates  the  rise  of  empires  or 
the  crumbling  of  thrones.  To  be  or  not  to  be — or,  rather, 
to  have  been  or  not  to  have  been — that  is  the  question.  He 
might  not  have  been,  but  he  was  born ;  and  with  the  birth 
have  come  all  of  life,  all  of  time,  and  the  eternity  beyond. 
The  most  are  glad  to  be.  They  are  thankful  that  they 
were  born,  to  look  out  upon  the  universe,  to  see  the  light 
of  the  sun,  and  to  be  as  a  part  of  the  life  and  the  intelli- 
gence that  throb  and  glow  in  the  creation.  And  with  the 
devout  this  sense  of  gratitude  swells  unutterably,  since  to 
be  born  opens  to  the  soul  the  blessed  consciousness  of  God 
and  the  boundlessness  of  the  everlasting.  Not  to  have 
been  born  is  the  next  most  fearful  thought  to  annihilation. 
The  one  is  what  might  have  been ;  the  other,  to  the  doubt- 
ing mind,  is  what  may  be.  Our  life  given,  we  cling  to  it, 
grateful  to  have  escaped  from  nothingness,  and  more  grate- 
ful that  we  live  for  evermore. 


Days  and  Seasons.  3G5 

It  is  perhaps  a  little  humiliating  to  consider  that  the 
world  did  very  well  without  us  when  as  yet  we  were  not. 
Nearly  all  history  was  made  before  we  came  into  the  world, 
and  creation  itself,  with  all  its  beauties  and  wonders,  was 
already  old.  The  light,  the  flowers,  the  spangled  frame  of 
the  skies,  the  Bible,  and  redemption — all  were  perfected 
without  us.  Laws  were  framed,  freedom  fought  for,  soci- 
ety organized,  printing,  gunpowder,  the  mariner's  compass 
invented,  and  the  Copernican  system  acpepted,  and  we  were 
not  here  to  help.  It  would  have  made^ut  little  difference 
if  there  had  been  this  one  name  less.  "  K"ow  and  then  is  one 
born  whose  not  being  Avould  seemingly  have  been  an  irrep- 
arable loss.  How  could  the  Avorld  have  done  without  Paul, 
Luther,  Calvin,  Wesley,  Kepler,  Newton,  Shakespeare, 
Washington?  But  it  is  only  a  few  stars  of  the  first  mag- 
nitude that  we  should  miss  from  the  multitudinous  hosts  of 
the  sky.  What  the  birthday  is  to  him  who  is  born  may 
not  be  much  in  the  seeming  to  the  great  universe  into  which 
he  comes,  and  if  we  were  to  go  out  of  it  only  the  smallest 
neighborhood  would  know  that  any  thing  had  happened. 
But  there  is  a  mission  even  in  this  momentary  flitting  across 
the  horizon  of  time.  "  It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we 
shall  be."  We  are  born  to  an  inheritance  in  nature,  and 
with  the  possibilities  of  a  heavenly  throne.  Of  him  who  is 
born  we  may  say.  All  things  arc  his;  he  is  heir,  if  he  will 
be,  of  all  things,  even  of  God  himselfi  Even  the  capacity 
of  being  lost  markslhc  dignity  of  the  being  and  the  worth 
of  it. 

Probably  the  birthdays  remembered  in  heaven  are  coin- 
cident with  the  dying-days  of  earth.  The  years  as  num- 
bered here  are  not  counted  there.  The  emergence  from 
the  mortal  into  the  immortal  is  the  epoch  from  Avhich  the 
personal  history  dates  in  the  eternal  world.  There  must 
be  a  celestial  calendar  of  some  sort,  a  dial-plate  upon  whose 


36G  The  Emxoit-liisiiop. 

golden  face  no  shadow  needs  to  fall,  or  the  revolutions  of 
some  mighty  sphere  by  which  the  years  and  cycles  of  heaven 
are  noted.  In  the  long  hereafter  the  few  fleeting  years  of 
earth  must  fall  away  as  mere  specks  or  atoms  in  the  retro- 
spect. In  the  depths  of  eternity  they  would  not  be  worth 
counting  in  answering  the  question,  "  How  old  art  thou?" 
We  must  start  from  a  new  point,  and  have  ample  measures 
of  duration. 

The  last  birthday  comes  to  all.  Friends  and  kindred 
may  prolong  the  remembrance  after  we  are  gone,  but  in 
time  the  memory  of  it  fades  out,  and  the  passing  genera- 
tions sweep  on,  removing  every  trace.  As  between  the  great 
and  famous,  and  the  little  and  obscure,  it  is  only  a  measure 
of  time.  Pharaoh's  birthday  was  notable  and  grandly  cel- 
ebrated thousands  of  years  ago,  but  when  he  was  born  is  a 
mere  conjecture  now.  As  far  as  this  world  is  concerned, 
the  difference  is  almost  nothing. 

And  as  to  length  of  days,  the  difference  between  youth 
and  old  age  becomes  a  point  invisible  at  last.  The  birth- 
day with  the  young  is  brightened  with  health  and  worldly 
hope  and  with  the  consciousness  of  increasing  strength  and 
wisdom ;  that  of  the  aged  is  sometimes  clouded  with  the 
infirmities  of  years  and  with  the  feeling  of  regret  that  life 
has  been  spent  to  so  little  purpose;  but  we  cannot  tell  which 
is  nearer  the  last.  It  would  seem  to  be  an  incongruous 
combination  which  the  preacher  has  framed  for  our  learn- 
ing, but  the  lesson  applies,  in  all  its  parts,  to  the  birthday 
of  the  good :  "A  good  name  is  better  than  precious  oint- 
ment, and  the  day  of  death  than  the  day  of  one's  birth." 


LIGHT  OUT  OF  DARKNESS; 


OUT  OF  A  DARK  ROOM. 

"n~'RULY,  the  light  is  sweet,  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is 
J.  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun ; "  but  then  the  eyes 
must  be  sound  and  healthful,  otherwise  the  light  comes  to 
be  regarded  as  an  enemy,  and  is  the  occasion  of  the  most 
exquisite  torture.  Under  such  circumstances  the  deepest 
night  is  most  agreeable,  and  darkness  lies  upon  the  sensitive 
organ  as  a  soothing  poultice.  We  observe  with  what  perti- 
nacity the  sunbeams  struggle  to  penetrate  our  seclusion.  In 
spite  pf  shutters  and  curtains,  here  and  there  a  fugitive  ray 
comes  in  as  a  painful  obtruder.  We  pursue  it  as  if  it  were 
a  serpent  rather  than  an  angel,  and  seek  to  stifle  it  by  deep- 
er shade.  We  are  conscious  of  an  outer  world  of  surpass- 
ing glory  whose  eflfulgence  presses  and  knocks  for  admit- 
tance, and  yet  our  chief  care  and  study  are  to  suppress  the 
faintest  glintings  that  strive  for  admission.  We  know  full 
well  that  without  is  the  world  of  beauty — scenery  of  gor- 
geous coloring,  and  a  landscape  that  imbibes  and  reflects  the 
unceasing  streams  that  flow  from  the  golden  sun.  From 
this  prison  of  gloom  we  can  only  think  about  it.  There  is 
neither  desire  nor  capacity  to  look  upon  it.     The  one  and 

*The  occasion  which  gave  this  article  to  the  Advocate  was  an  at- 
tack of  inflammation  of  the  eyes,  painful  and  tedious,  yet  borne  with 
such  gentle,  cheerful  patience  and  consideration  for  the  one  who  was 
blessed  with  the  privilege  of  sharing  the  darkness  of  that  sick-room 
as  nurse  and  amanuensis,  that  she  found  it  the  brightest  and  sweet- 
est s}wt  in  her  home— the  home  that  was  never  dark  while  the  radi- 
ance of  this  strong,  pure,  beautiful  life  shone  therein. — E.  K.  P. 

(S67) 


3C8  The  Editou-Bishui'. 

only  fear  is  lest  any  particle  of  this  brilliancy  shouli  invade 
our  retirement. 

Perhaps  this  whole  experience  gives  us  some  clew  to  the 
phenomena  of  a  soul  diseased — to  that  aversion  to  light  and 
to  that  shrinking  from  revealed  truth  which,  under  certain 
conditions,  are  exhibited  by  the  conscience.  Light  is  come 
into  the  world,  and  men  love  darkness  rather  than  light. 
The  most  beautiful  and  beneficent  is  hated.  The  condition 
fitly  represents  that  state  of  soul  which  belongs  to  the  nat- 
ural man.  It  is  not  utterly  dark.  There  is  some  diffusion 
and  reflection  of  light  in  spite  of  the  barriers  to  admission. 
We  seem  to  see  very  well,  and  it  is  only  when  a  shutter  is 
turned  that  we  become  aware  of  how  little  we  do  see  and 
of  the  dai'kuess  in  which  we  abide. 

Our  dark  room,  in  comparison  with  the  brightness  of  the 
outer  world,  is  what  our  present  state  of  being  is  to  that 
which  is  to  come.  Friends  coming  in  are  to  us  as  angel  vis- 
itors, and  yet  they  stumble  and  grope  as  if  in  pitch  dark- 
ness. The  transition  from  a  brighter  atmosphere  unfits 
them  to  move  in  this.  We  can  imagine  that  the  descent  of 
an  angel  from  heaven  to  our  earth  would  be  indeed  as  a 
leap  in  the  dark  were  it  not  for  their  self-contained  illumi- 
nation and  for  the  possession  of  senses  of  supernatural  pow- 
er. The  bar  to  knowledge  and  intercourse  between  the 
saints  in  glory  and  the  good  on  earth  may  be  only  a  wall 
of  supernal  light  on  the  one  part  and  of  a  cloud  of  dark- 
ness on  the  other.  We  cannot  look  up  through  the  bright- 
ness ;  they  cannot  pierce  the  veil  that  overshadows  us.  They 
are  shut  in  to  "the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light;"  we, 
in  the  shadows  of  our  mortal  home,  await  the  epiphany  that 
shall  restore  us  to  their  companionship.  These  goggled  eyes 
remind  us  how  we  "see  through  a  glass,  darkly" — how  sub- 
dued, ill-defined,  and  limited  is  all  our  vision  here  in  com- 
parison with  that  day  when  with  open  face  "we  shall  see 


Light  Out  of  Darkness.  369 

the  King  in  his  beauty,  and  behold  the  land  that  is  very 
far  off." 

And  yet  our  imprisonment  may  be  but  temporary,  and  to 
a  gracious  end.  It  is  for  a  healing  purpose — that  we  may 
be  prepared  for  the  light.  The  eye  must  be  restored,  that 
it  may  bear  the  sight  of  the  sun.  God  has  placed  us  in 
comparatively  a  dark  room.  There  is  balm  in  Gilead  and 
a  physician  there.  Restored  faculties  is  the  preparation 
which  enables  us  to  appreciate  the  light  we  have,  and  pre- 
pares us  for  glory  that  is  to  come.  It  is  well  for  a  world 
of  sinners  that  God  has  so  attempered  his  revealments  to 
their  purblind  condition,  and  that  in  mercy  to  human  weak- 
ness only  the  skirts  of  the  awful  form  are  seen  in  its  majes- 
tic march.  He  places  us  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock — throws 
over  us  the  shadow  of  a  living  as  well  as  omnipotent  hand 
— while  his  goodness  passes  before  us.  What  seems  to  be 
an  imprisonment  and  restraint,  which  limit  our  movement 
and  vision,  are  in  reality  those  contrivances  and  conditions 
that  are  necessary  to  our  present  healing  and  to  our  final 
liberation. 

We  observe,  as  the  vision  clarifies  and  the  engorged  eye- 
balls cease  to  throb,  that  the  light  becomes  more  tolerable, 
and  wc  begin  to  feel  that  "  truly  the  light  is  sweet,  and  a 
pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun."  We 
can  look  out  somewhat  now.  There  is  no  longer  any  at- 
tempt to  crush  the  straggling  rays.  They  are  rather  wel- 
come, and  come  to  us  as  the  tokens  and  earnest  of  a  blessed 
deliverance.  Instead  of  striving  to  exclude  the  sunbeams, 
we  rather  pray  for  their  ingress.  Surely  "the  earnest  ex- 
pectation of  the  creature  waiteth  for  the  manifestation  of 
the  SOBS  of  God."  We  are  being  called  out  of  darkness 
into  "his  marvelous  light."  Somewhat  after  this  manner  is 
the  progress  of  a  soul  from  sin  to  righteousness  and  from 
righteousness  to  heaven.  There  is  a  gradual  inflowing  of 
24 


370  The.  Editor-Bishop. 

light  as  the  spiritual  cure  goes  on.  The  love  is  for  light 
rather  than  darkness.  The  senses  are  adjusted  to  the  ever- 
increasing  splendors  of  truth,  and  the  whole  nature  is 
brought  into  accord  with  that  which  is  luminous  with  spir- 
itual beauty.  "Old  things  are  passed  away;  behold,  all 
things  are  become  new." 

There  comes,  as  the  completeness  of  convalescence  ap- 
proaches, a  strong  yearning  after  more  light  and  a  sense  of 
sufficiency  to  emerge  into  the  glowing  day — such  desire  as 
the  heart  sometimes  feels  to  break  through  the  vaulted  blue 
and  gaze  upon  those  splendors  that  suns  and  stars  but  dimly 
reflect.  The  cry  of  the  pure  heart  is,  "  I  beseech  thee,  show 
me  thy  glory!"  It  longs  through  a  clearer  medium  to  look 
upon  "the  light  of  the  world,"  and  to  gaze  upon  the  Sun 
of  righteousness. 

In  our  dark  room  there  are  ministering  spirits — eyes  that 
see  for  us,  hands  that  deftly  anticipate  the  needs  of  the  help- 
less. Some,  if  not  all,  in  this  earthly  prison-house  have 
their  guardian-angels — angels  neither  winged  nor  invisible, 
but,  what  is  far  better,  incarnate  in  woman's  form.  Who 
can  tell  the  unseen  ministries  that  attend  us  all,  and  that 
beyond  our  recognition  aid  and  supplement  those  we  see? 
And  through  all  and  in  all  the  remedies  and  cares  of  earth- 
ly skill  and  love  is  it  not  the  hand  of  Him  who  gave  sight 
to  the  blind  that  gives  the  efficacious  and  healing  touch  ? 


NOT  ORPHANS. 

"Comfortless"  is  a  comment  rather  than  a  translation. 
"  I  will  not  leave  you  orphans"  is  the  literal  meaning.  Or- 
phanage is  indeed  a  comfortless  condition.  In  its  spiritual 
sense,  it  is  to  be  "  without  God  in  the  world."  Wycliffe 
hit  the  sense  precisely — "  fatherless."  Atheism  is  orphan- 
age in  regard  to  the  divine  fatherhood,  and  so  are  all  appre- 


'  Light  Out  of  Dakk>'ess.  371 

hensions  of  God  which  exclude  his  personality  and  good- 
ness. But,  more  than  this,  to  be  without  Christ  is  to  be 
orpiians  without  the  comfort  and  presence  of  the  Infinite 
Father.  Christ  alone  shows  us  the  Father,  and  manifests 
him  as  the  Father  to  the  believing  heart.  Our  sonship  is 
based  upon  faith  in  Christ :  "  But,  as  many  as  received  him, 
to  them  gave  he  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  even  to 
them  that  believe  on  his  name."  In  contrast  with  the  or- 
phanage of  the  soul  is  the  spirit  of  adoption :  "And,  be- 
cause ye  are  sons,  God  hath  sent  forth  the  Spirit  of  his  Son 
into  your  hearts,  crying,  Abba,  Father!"  Whatever  spec- 
ulative or  theoretical  notions  we  may  have  about  God,  the 
cry  of  "Abba,  Father,''  in  its  deep,  heart-penetrating  sense, 
never  springs  from  a  mind  estranged  from  Christ. 

Strauss,  as  quoted  by  Taylor  Lewis,  says :  "  In  the  enor- 
mous machine  of  the  imiverse,  amid  the  incessant  whirl 
and  hiss  of  its  jagged  iron  wheels,  amid  the  deafening  crash 
ot  its  ponderous  stamps  and  hammers,  in  the  midst  of  this 
terrific  commotion,  man,  a  helpless  and  defenseless  creature, 
finds  himself  placed,  not  secure  for  a  moment,  that  on  some 
unguarded  motion  a  wheel  may  not  seize  and  rend  him  or  a 
hammer  crush  him  to  powder.  This  sense  of  abandonment 
is  at  first  something  awful."  The  fearfiil  desolation  of  the 
skeptic  is  well  depicted  in  this  honest  utterance.  Having 
rejected  Christ  and  the  supernatural,  there  is  nothing  left 
but  blank  despair.  In  contrast  with  this  dark  and  rayless 
night  of  unbelief  is  the  spirit  of  adoption  in  the  children 
of  God,  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  the  heart  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  the  sense  of  security  as  the  believer  nestles 
in  the  arms  of  an  almighty  and  loving  heavenly  Father. 

Orphanage  rightly  describes  the  abandonment,  the  help- 
lessness, the  hopelessness  of  those  who  have  drifted  out  into 
the  black  and  fathomless  waters  of  atheism  ;  and  all  systems 
of  religion  and  philosophy  that  reject  Christ  tend  to  athe- 


372  The  Editor-Bishop. 

ism,  and  ultimately  reach  it.  A  weak  aud  ignorant  child, 
left  parentless  in  the  world,  and  thrust  out  upon  the  current 
of  society  without  sympathy,  love,  and  wisdom  to  guide  and 
shelter  it,  only  faintly  exhibits  the  melancholy  state  of  the 
Christless  soul.  To  such  a  one  there  is  do  personal  wisdom, 
mercy  or  goodness,  no  justice,  truth,  or  righteousness,  in 
the  ordering  of  events.  There  is  a  blind,  inexorable,  un- 
feeling f()rce  and  a  material  fatalism  in  the  sweep  and  move- 
ment of  nature.  There  is  no  God,  no  pitying  Father,  no 
beneficent  power  to  whom  helpless  creatures  may  appeal 
and  in  whom  they  may  trust.  Man  is  a  stray  and  parent- 
less  waif,  a  something  in  which  intelligence  and  conscious- 
ness have  been  evolved  to  perish  in  death  or  to  pass  into 
other  conditions  and  forms  as  inexplicable,  and  perhaps 
more  miserable  than  the  present. 

From  such  dreary  views  of  the  world,  and  of  man  and 
his  destiny,  the  hungry  soul  turns  with  relief  to  the  revela- 
tions and  privileges  of  the  gospel.  Christ  does  not  leave  us 
in  this  horrible  and  repulsive  orphanage,  this  utter  loneli- 
ness of  spirit,  this  state  of  severance  from  a  love  which  the 
soul  instinctively  craves.  He  comes  to  us.  God  comes  to 
us  in  his  Son,  and  the  Spirit  of  his  Son  in  us  cries,  "Abba, 
Father ! "  Man  is  not  a  mere  lump  of  matter,  drifting  we 
know  not  whither,  but  an  immortal  spirit  made  in  the  di- 
vine image,  redeemed  by  love,  and  guided  through  sorrow, 
temptation,  suffering,  and  death  to  the  everlasting  man- 
sions. 

There  is  nothing  so  utterly  alone,  so  absolutely  helpless, 
so  surrounded  with  unmitigated  gloom,  as  the  human  spirit 
without  God.  The  companionship  and  sympathy  of  our 
fellows  do  not  help  us,  since  they  are  in  like  case  as  miser- 
able as  ourselves,  and  powerless  to  avert  disaster  or  to  secure 
good  fortune.  Our  earthly  parents  have  brought  us  into  a 
world  of  trouble,  but  they  cannot  guide  us  through  it  nor 


Light  Out  Of  Darkness, 


give  us  hope  in  passing  out  of  it.  As  to  all  higher  rela- 
tions, and  as  to  the  interests  and  destiny  of  the  soul,  our  or- 
phanage is  absolute  and  appalling  until  the  divine  father- 
hood, the  infinite  tenderness,  the  far-reaching  mercy,  shine 
forth  in  Christ.  Comfortless  because  of  our  orphanage,  all 
comfort  breaks  updm  us  through  the  sonship  in  Christ.  In 
him  "  the  Eternal  God  is  thy  refuge,  and  underneath  are  the 
everlasting  arms." 

Christ  found  the  world  in  a  state  of  orphanage,  alienated 
from  God,  and  with  dim  conceptions  of  his  paternal  love 
and  compassion.  He  left  his  disciples  trembling  and  doubt- 
ing, and  with  feeble  conceptions  of  God's  care  over  them. 
He  looks  upon  struggling,  tempted,  agonizing  souls  every- 
where, tossed  and  worried  by  doubt  and  sin,  and  hungering 
for  a  strong  consolation.  He  comes  to  us  all  to  reveal  the 
Father,  and,  in  the  place  of  the  spirit  of  bondage  to  fear 
to  plant  in  us  the  spirit  of  adoption.  He  comes  to  break 
off  the  chains  of  darkness,  to  open  the  prison  doors,  and  to 
thrill  the  longing  heart  with  the  one  cry  which  ends  our 
banishment  from  the  infinite  and  eternal  love.  He  comes 
in  the  power  and  joyousness  of  his  own  Spirit,  jrying  "Ab- 
ba, Father  "  in  the  orphaned  soul. 


GOD'S  CHASTISEMENTS. 

The  afilicted  are  tempted  to  distrust  the  paternal  good- 
ness of  God  because  they  are  called  to  suffer.  The  very  op- 
posite conclusion,  however,  is  the  true  one;  "for  whom  the 
Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom 
he  receiveth."  This  is  a  peculiar  stamp  of  acceptance  and 
seal  of  sonship.  God  is  dealing  with  us  as  with  sons,  not 
as  with  enemies  and  rebels,  when  he  permits  the  rod  to  fall 
upon  us.  Great  trials  and  sore  tribulations  are  therefore  to 
the  Christian  full  of  comfort,  since  they  indicate  God's  fa- 


o74  The  Editor-Bishop. 

therly  love  and  their  own  filial  relation  to  him  whose 
throne  is  in  the  heavens. 

A  common  mistake  made  by  suffering  believers  is  in  their 
estimate  of  the  results  of  affliction.  We  frequently  hear 
them  declare  that  they  get  along  better  in  religion  when  in 
prosperity  and  health,  and  that  pain  anTi  trouble  only  bring 
darkness  and  dissatisfaction.  They  do  not  propose  to  deny 
the  scriptural  teachings  that  benefits  most  important  and 
glorious  flow  from  the  afflictions  of  the  present  life.  They 
only  propose  to  constitute  themselves  exceptions  to  the  gen- 
eral law.  David  was  right  when  he  said :  "  It  is  good  for 
me  that  I  have  been  afflicted,  that  I  might  learn  thy  stat- 
utes. Before  I  was  afflicted  I  went  astray ;  but  now  have  I 
kept  thy  word."  »Paul  was  not  beside  himself  when  he  glo- 
ried in  infirmities  and  tribulations,  and  with  a  towering 
faith  exclaimed:  "For  our  light  affliction,  which  is  but  for 
a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory."  Generally  true,  they  are  the  exceptions. 
There  are  those  who  take  this  view  of  the  subject:  that  it 
is  better  for  them  to  be  exempt  from  trouble,  and  who  really 
think  that  the  tendency  of  sorrow  and  trial  with  them  is  to 
depress  their  faith  and  to  mar  their  spiritual  life. 

This  is  a  very  natural  mistake,  and  one  which  Paul  an- 
ticipates: "Now  no  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth  to 
be  joyous,  but  grievous;  nevertheless,  afterward  it  yieldeth 
the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness  unto  them  which  are 
exercised  thereby."  The  present  seeming  is  grievous  in- 
deed. A  fierce  struggle  is  aroused ;  the  soul  is  overwhelmed, 
and  tempted  to  rebel.  Faith,  so  far  from  being  strength- 
ened, wavers,  and  the  buddings  of  doubt  and  distrust  ap- 
pear. It  is  afterward  that  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteous- 
ness is  yielded.  Submission  may  not  be  reached  at  once, 
but  the  opposite,  self-will,  and  even  defiance,  awake  as  never 
before.     There  is  no  clear  vision.    Clouds  and  darkness  are 


Light  Out  of  Darkness.  375 

round  about.  The  spirit  is  broken,  hope  almost  gone,  and 
faith  in  God  is  shaken.  But  afterward  the  victory  comes 
out  of  this  fearful  conflict,  and  all  the  graces  are  refined 
and  perfected  by  the  ordeal  through  which  the  soul  has 
been  made  to  pass^  The  peaceable  fruit  is  after  the  smoke, 
dust,  and  din  of  the  battle-field  are  over.  A  present  joy- 
ousness  is  not  the  sign  of  profitable  chastening.  Here  we 
run  into  the  error  that  affliction  is  not  good  for  its,  however 
it  may  benefit  others.  The  seemingly  untoward  effects  real- 
ly are  the  precursors  of  the  good.  The  present  grievous  as- 
pect of  God's  dealings,  the  cheerless  and  terrible  upheaval, 
the  stirring  up  of  rebellion,  doubt,  and  other  repulsive  sed- 
iments of  the  corrupt  heart  are  to  be  followed  by  the  calm 
of  a  resigned  and  submissive  spirit. 

It  is  a  dangerous  condition  to  be  in  when  a  man  con- 
cludes that  he  is  an  exception  to  the  law  of  suflfering,  and 
that  his  religious  welfare  is  best  promoted  by  prosperity. 
The  peril  lies  in  this:  that  when  the  trial  comes  he  will  fail 
to  see  the  Father's  hand,  and  will  miss  the  blessing  which 
infinite  love  and  wisdom  have  designed  for  him.  Because 
the  present  seeming  is  grievous  he  resents  this  mark  of  his 
sonship,  and  the  peaceable  fruit  is  never  realized.  While 
God  has  dealt  with  him  as  with  a  son,  he  has  alienated  him- 
self from  this  dear  relationship,  and  by  his  willfulness  that 
which  would  have  proved  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteous- 
ness is  blighted  in  the  bud.  The  course  of  safety  and  com- 
fort is  to  surrender  ourselves  to  the  inspired  teaching  and 
to  cultivate  subjection  unto  the  Father  of  spirits.  Griev- 
ous as  is  the  present,  and  as  it  must  be  to  do  us  good,  there 
is  the  joyousness  of  the  afterward.  How  long  sorrow  may 
continue,  how  long  the  pain  and  the  travail,  we  may  not 
tell;  but  the  afterward,  even  in  this  life,  is  blessed.  The 
peaceable  fruit  is  sure  to  come  out  of  this  tearful  sowing. 
In  this  life,  but  certainly  and  completely  in  the  life  to  come, 


376  The  Editor-Bishop. 

will  the  fruit  appear,  "For  I  reckon  that  the  sufferings 
of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with 
the  glory  which  shall  be  in  us." 


THE  DISCIPLINE  OF  FAILURE. 

"The  man  who  never  lost  a  battle"  is  a  rare  man  in  the 
world.  The. greatest  successes  have  been  preceded  by  what 
seemed  to  be  disastrous  defeat.  In  proof,  we  might  recall 
the  careers  of  Peter  the  Great,  of  Russia ;  of  Frederick  the 
Great,  of  Prussia;  and  the  struggle  of  our  own  country 
under  Washington  for  liberty  and  independence.  If  Napo- 
leon had  not  been  uniformly  a  conqueror  at  first,  it  is  not 
unlikely  that  he  would  have  ended  his  days  as  "  head  of  the 
army"  and  ruler  of  France.  In  war  the  defeated  general 
may  learn  more  than  the  one  that  overcomes,  and  the  victor 
is  often  demoralized  and  fatally  damaged  by  his  temporary 
triumph. 

It  may  be  so  in  the  battle  of  life  for  bread  and  fortune. 
It  has  been  said  that  the  best  merchants  are  those  who  have 
passed  through  the  trying  ordeal  of  business  embarrassment 
and  failure.  In  it  they  have  learned  such  lessons  of  sngac- 
.  ity,  prudence,  and  economy  as  enable  them  to  guard  against 
like  miscarriages  in  the  future.  In  a  certain  sense  it  may 
be  true  that  the  highest  ultimate  success  in  secular  affairs 
sometimes  comes  out  of  the  training  and  experience  of  fail- 
ure. It  may  not  be  quite  true  of  the  navigator  who  has 
lost  a  ship  that  he  is  more  to  be  trusted  than  one  who  has 
not,  but  under  some  circumstances  it  might  be  so.  Some 
men  would  be  more  vigilant  after  such  a  misfortune. 

However  this  may  be,  there  is  a  moral  discipline  in  our 
temporal  reverses,  so  that  what  \vc  call  failure  leads  to  the 
highest  of  all  success.  The  uniformly  prosperous  man  is 
notiisually  the  most  spiritual.     The  rich  merchants,  bond- 


Light  Out  of  Dakkness.  377 

holders,  and  capitalists  seldom  help  to  swell  the  prayer-meet- 
ing, nor  are  they  usually  overmuch  occupied  with  their  re- 
lio-ious  devotions.  There  are  exceptions,  but  riches  securely 
held  are  generally  unfriendly  to  piety.  The  true  riches 
have  come  to  many  only  after  the  mammon  of  unrighteous- 
ness has  been  lost.  To  them  a  great  success  would  have 
been  ruin  everlasting. 

But  in  the  spiritual  conflict — the  fight  of  faith  and  the 
effort  to  lay  hold  on  eternal  life — does  the  finally  successful 
soul  universally  win?  In  this  most  important  of  all  sol- 
dierships, are  there  many  who  can  boast  that  they  have 
never  lost  a  battle?  Conquerors  and  more  than  conquerors 
at  last,  there  has  been  defeat  and  even  rout  in  the  march. 
They  have  been  flanked  and  ambushed  and  overcome  by 
the  deceitfulness  of  sin.  But  the  tyro  in  religion  becomes 
acquainted  with  the  tactics  of  Satan.  He  discovers  his 
wiles,  and  learns  his  own  most  vulnerable  points.  He  need 
not  have  yielded  for  a  moment.  He  ought  to  have  had  on 
the  whole  armor  of  God,  and  he  might  have  come  out  of 
the  conflict  without  a  scar.  But  his  errors  and  false  steps, 
if  wisely  laid  to  heart,  have  opened  his  eyes  to  his  peril, 
and  they  have  driven  him  to  the  tower  of  his  strength.  He 
sees  now  how  backsliding  came  about,  how  the  easily-beset- 
ting sin  found  a  foot-hold,  and  how  utterly  weak  and  de- 
fenseless he  is  when  unbelief  separates  from  Christ.  Hu- 
mility, watchfulness,  and  a  deeper  love  may  thus  flow  from 
the  conscious  failures  which  have  more  or  less  marked  al- 
most every  Christian  life.  It  is  under  such  discipline  as 
this  that  the  soul  cries  out  for  the  living  God,  and  seeks  for 
the  perfect  cleansing  and  the  completeness  of  grace  to  over- 
come all  sin  and  the  power  to  walk  in  the  light  evermore. 

The  consciousness  of  failure  in  any  direction  entails  suf- 
fering, but  it  ought  not  to  drive  us  to  despair.  It  is  humil- 
iating, disappointing,  discouraging;  but  God  is  the  God  of 


878  The  Editor-Bishop. 


all  grace,  and  "if  any  man  sin,  we  have  an  Advocate  with 
tlie  Father."  The  sense  of  past  defects  and  unfaithfulness 
should  quicken  ourstej^s  now,  and  lead  to  an  immediate  and 
unreserved  consecration  to  Christ.  If  life  in  its  secular  as- 
pects seems  to  have  been  a  failure,  the  purpose  and  the  re- 
sult may  he  a  wonderful  success  in  the  spiritual  achieve- 
ments gained  through  suffering.  If  our  great  Exemplar 
learned  obedience  "by  the  things  which  he  suffered,"  much 
more  may  we.  What  men  count  the  greatest  failures  may 
be  the  grandest  of  successes.  If  there  be  mortifying  fail- 
ure hitherto  in  our  religious  lives,  there  should  now  be  the 
resolve  of  new  and  fresh  endeavor  and  the  determination  to 
live  nearer  to  Grod. 

Let  us  not  be  discouraged  by  the  oft-repeated  reference  to 
"  the  man  who  never  lost  a  battle."  That  man  is  not  often 
met  with  in  war,  business,  or  religion.  Defeat  has  its  les- 
sons for  us  all,  and  after  defeat  and  through  defeat  have 
come  the  permanent  and  final  successes  of  almost  all  great 
careers  and  noble  lives.  The  successful  man  is  he  who  wins 
the  last  and  the  best  things. 


THE  LIFE  THAT  NOW  IS. 


AS  A  TALE  THAT  IS  TOLD. 

SO  to  the  inspired  i)oet  it  seemed.  "  We  spend  our  years 
as  a  tale  that  is  told."  As  the  most  exciting  story  comes 
quickly  to  an  end,  and  all  its  scenes  and  incidents  fade  with 
its  closing  words,  so  is  it  with  our  years.  Or,  as  some  ex- 
plain, our  years  are  as  a  thought,  a  transient  ejaculation, 
a  momentary  utterance  that  dies  on  the  lips.  Adam  Clarke 
insists  that  the  Hebrew  has  a  sadder  meaning :  "  We  con- 
sume our  years  like  a  groan."  He  says:  "We  live  a  dy- 
ing whining,  complaining  life,  and  at  last  a  groan  is  its  ter- 
mination." All  of  these  conceptions  of  life  apply  to  it  as 
a  whole  and  to  the  end  of  our  earthly  being,  and  in  many 
respects  they  describe  each  single  year  that  passes.  The 
tale  is  told  as  far  as  the  past  year  is  concerned.  We  can 
recall  its  events  and  muse  upon  its  scenes,  but  we  cannot 
make  it  other  than  it  is.  Whether  a  thought,  an  ejacula- 
tion, a  groan,  it  has  been  uttered,  and  we  cannot  arrest  its 
flight.  We  can  now  see  how  the  story  might  have  been 
better,  how  it  might  have  been  illuminated  with  nobler  ac- 
tions, and  how  it  might  have  been  illustrated  with  brighter 
colors.  If  we  had  it  to  tell  over  again,  we  would  try  to 
make  it  worthier,  and  have  it  rounded  with  more  satisfying 
results.  The  record,  however,  is  made,  and  it  cannot  be 
recast. 

The  meditation  dwells  upon  the  shortness  of  life — a  brev- 
ity that  fails  to  impress  us  until  the  tale  is  ended.  As  life 
proceeds,  with  its  absorbing  occupations  and  varied  pur- 
suits, we  arc  not  conscious  of  the  lapse  of  time.     It  is  only 

(379) 


380  The  Editor-Bishop. 

wlien  we  pause  at  the  end  of  a  year  that  we  partially  real- 
ize how  short  it  is,  and  only  at  death  shall  we  feel  the  full 
force  of  the  declaration  that  "our  days  are  as  a  hand- 
breadth."  The  individual  life  is  as  a  moment  in  compari- 
son with  the  life  of  the  race ;  and  in  our  relation  to  the 
general  progress  we  are  but  madrepores  in  the  building  up 
of  the  ages.  The  vanity  of  life  is  most  apparent  in  our  per- 
sonal insignificance  and  in  the  mortality  that  bounds  our 
earthly  career.  And  yet  the  drop,  as  part  of  the  ocean,  is 
invested  with  an  importance  and  sublimity  which  belong  to 
the  entire  sea.  The  atom  partakes  of  the  grandeur  of  the 
mountain  of  which  it  is  a  portion.  A  year  well  spent  con- 
tributes something  to  the  general  store,  and  a  life  finished 
in  goodness  and  usefulness  is  a  legacy  of  price  left  to  com- 
ing generations.  When  we  turn  from  the  earthly  and  mor- 
tal side  of  our  being,  the  vanity  of  life  disappears  and  its 
true  purpose  and  surpassing  glory  are  manifest.  This  is 
the  import  of  these  sad  and  depressing  views  of  man's 
earthly  lot.  They  are  indeed  somber  and  humiliating  if 
this  world  were  all.  A  pensive  and  melancholy  shadow 
rests  upon  all  sublunary  things  until  the  light  of  heaven 
shines  out.  If  life's  story  ended  here,  and  if  there  were  no 
immortality  to  follow,  then  the  picture  could  not  be  too  dis- 
mally drawn.  As  a  preparation  for  another  life  the  present 
is  long  enough,  and  all  its  sorrows  and  toils  have  their  ex- 
planation in  the  discipline  that  is  needed  to  fit  us  for  a 
higher  and  happier  state. 

The  tenor  of  the  psalmist's  reflections  is  admonitory.  It 
is  so  in  fact — that  we  consume  our  years  as  a  tale  that  is 
told.  We  permit  them  to  slip  by  without  improving  them 
as  we  should,  content  to  be  entertained  as  they  go,  and  hav- 
ing no  adequate  conception  of  their  precious  and  irrecov- 
erable opportunities.  Diversion  and  entertainment  have 
been  the  chief  desire,  rather  than  earnest  work  and  a  great 


The  Life  That  Now  Is.  »  381 

purpose.  We  have  built  castles  iu  the  air,  wasted  our  time 
in  reverie  and  dreams,  dallied  with  superficial  pleasures,  and 
made  life  a  worthless  fiction  instead  of  a  grand  reality. 
We  have  moved  amidst  the  clouds  of  the  unreal,  the  fan- 
tastic, and  have  lost  ourselves  in  bewildering  speculations, 
while  we  have  banished  all  serious  thought  from  our  minds. 
Life  has  been  a  tale  of  plots,  episodes,  and  romance  to 
amuse,  rather  than  a  school  for  the  formation  of  character. 
We  have  reveled  in  it  as  a  novel  when  we  should  have 
studied  it  as  a  sacred  history.  It  is  this  misinterpretation 
of  our  years — the  careless,  dawdling,  and  frivolous  way  in 
which  we  consume  them — that  calls  for  the  censure  of  the 
inspired  sage. 

The  levity  of  men  in  their  retrospect  of  the  year  is  well 
described.  It  is  something  to  be  rehearsed  with  the  light- 
ness and  thoughtlessness  of  a  story  that  is  told.  We  forget 
that  the  dead  year  will  have  a  resurrection,  that  it  will 
meet  us  in  the  judgment,  and  that  the  impress  of  it  must 
remain  with  us  forever.  People  drink,  dance,  and  make 
merry  over  the  grave  of  the  old  year.  There  is  infinite  jest 
in  its  dying-hour,  and  a  rare  humor  in  the  conviction  that 
it  is  gone.  This  is  our  crazy  way  of  estimating  life  and 
celebrating  its  epochs — verily  as  a  tale  that  is  told.  It  is  a 
solemn  thing  to  live ;  and,  if  in  our  right  minds,  we  cannot 
be  otherwise  than  serious  when  we  meditate  upon  the  year 
that  is  past. 

It  will  be  to  the  thoughtful  a  history  of  the  divine  prov- 
idence and  grace,  a  journey  wherein  the  pilgrim's  feet  have 
been  under  heavenly  guidance,  and  wherein  a  beneficent 
hand  has  led  the  weary  and  perplexed  traveler  into  the 
paths  of  safety.  To  such  it  may  be  also  a  poem  of  epic 
power,  interspersed  with  odes  and  hymns,  and  filled  with 
the  sweetness  and  harmony  of^a  faith  kept  and  of  duty  per- 
formed.   And  it  may  stand  out  to  our  view  as  a  work  of 


382   •  The  Editob-Bishop. 

art  hewn  from  the  great  quarry  of  time  aud  wrought  and 
polished  into  a  form  of  imperishable  beauty  and  grace. 

That  we  consume  our  years  in  any  way  is  enough  to  ar- 
rest the  attention  of  the  most  careless.  The  flame  of  life 
is  devouring  the  taper.  The  years  are  taken  up  into  our- 
selves, and  we  are  giving  them  out  in  various  forms  of  per- 
sonal influence  and  carrying  them  with  us  to  the  eternal 
day.  As  to  us,  it  is  as  if  so  much  of  time  were  burned  up, 
or  a3  if  it  were  drowned  in  a  deluge.  What  we  have  saved 
from  the  flame  and  the  flood  may  not  be  much,  but  it  is 
all  that  is  left  us.  Whether  we  have  been  prodigals  or  du- 
tiful sons,  whether  we  have  spent  to  wasta  or  to  save,  is  the 
question  to  be  answered. 

Sincerely  do  we  wish  our  readers  a  happy  New-year. 
Some  of  you  have  spent  the  past  year  well,  and  this  gives 
promise  of  a  happy  year  to  come.  Some  of  you  have  con- 
sumed the  past  year  in  vanity — perhaps  also  in  sin.  You 
have  lost  much  that  cannot  be  retrieved,  but  through  infi- 
nite mercy  you  may  have  a  happy  year  too.  AVould  that 
we  could  for  once  reach  the  ear,  the  conscience,  and  the 
heart  of  all  who  have  thus  far  neglected  the  great  salva- 
tion. We  would  point  them  to  Christ  as  the  refuge,  and 
beseech  them  to  make  sure  at  once  of  the  blessed  hope. 
Let  the  new  year  be  begun  aright.  From  henceforth  live 
for  eternity,  live  to  be  useful,  and  dedicate  your  body,  soul, 
substance,  and  time  to  Him  who  came  into  the  world  to 
redeem  you.  With  the  new  year  the  tale  of  our  earthly 
life  will  indeed  be  told  with  many  of  us.  May  it  be  the 
portion  of  such  to  enter  into  the  Master's  joy. 


"I  WOULD  NOT  LIVE  ALWAY." 

The  good  Dr.  Muhlenberg,  author  of  the  hymn  "I  would 
not  live  alway,  I  ask  not  to  stay,"  is  dead,  aged  eighty-four. 


The  Life  That  Now  Is.  383 

He  lived  long  enough  to  hear  his  hymn  sung  for  half  a  cent- 
ury, and  hear  of  it  as  being  sung  all  over  the  world.  Mid- 
dle-aged people  who  have  been  accustomed  to  the  hymn 
from  their  childhood  supposed,  for  the  most  part,  that  the 
author,  whoever  he  might  be,  must  have  lived  and  died  long 
ago.  A  man  of  such  a  mood,  one  would  think,  ought  to 
have  died  young,  and  thus,  in  some  sort,  to  have  illustrated 
the  sentiment  of  his  song.  His  years,  however,  stretched 
beyond  the  allotted  span,  and  he  who  "  would  not  live  alway  " 
went  far  beyond  the  measure  of  days  which  fall  to  the  most 
of  old  men. 

We  doubt  not  his  old  age  was  sunny  and  joyous,  and 
that  he  took  in  the  blessings  and  beauties  of  the  outer  world 
as  only  Christians  can.  In  temporal  things  Providence 
was  kind  to  him,  and  his  was  a  complete,  well-rounded,  and 
happy  life.  He  never  took  back  his  hymn,  or  the  sentK 
ments  of  it,  that  we  know  of.  Whether  it  was  sung  at  his 
death-bed  or  funeral  we  do  not  know ;  but  it  might  have 
been  with  propriety.  It  is  such  a  hymn  as  we  should  nat- 
urally suppose  only  an  old  man  would  write,  or  one  in  great 
affliction.  But  Dr.  Muhlenberg  must  have  been  compara- 
tively young  when  he  wrote  it,  and  as  yet  little  acquainted 
with  the  greater  sorrows  of  human  experience.  As  years 
multiplied  and  old  age  came  on  apace,  he  must  have  felt 
that  this  early  effusion  wonderfully  anticipated  the  longings 
of  the  aged  saint.  What  the  younger  Christian  could  write 
only  the  aged  believer  could  completely  feel. 

The  text  is  taken  from  Job,  but  the  sermon  is  from  John. 
The  old  patriarchs  felt  the  weariness  of  life,  but  they  could 
not  have  written  this  hymn.  They  had  the  theme,  but  the 
song  must  wait  until  Jesus  and  the  resurrection  should  be 
more  clearly  manifested.  The  stringed  instruments  of  the 
Old  Testament  can  be  touched  and  all  their  music  brought 
out  of  them  only  by  the  masterly  skill  of  gospel  faith  and 


384  The  Editor-Bishop. 

assurance.  Neither  Job,  David,  nor  Isaiah  could  have  writ- 
ten the  song  that  Muhlenberg  did. 

In  many  respects  religion  makes  the  present  life  more  tol- 
erable than  it  would  be  without  it ;  but  with  all  of  its  con- 
solations and  joys  the  blessed  hope  of  a  brighter-  world 
draws  the  believer  away  from  it.  The  routine  of  daily  af- 
fairs, the  pettiness  of  employments  that  occupy  the  most  of 
our  time,  the  staleness,  flatness,  and  tedium  of  the  work  we 
must  do,  drive  us  to  think  of  better  things  and  to  wish  for 
them.  Mr.  Jefferson,  in  his  old  age  writing  to  John  Adams 
in  this  mood  of  weariness,  speaks  of  the  labor  of  putting  on 
and  taking  off  his  shoes.  What  a  large  part  of  every  life 
is  consumed  in  these  details,  and  how  the  soul  comes  at 
length  to  fret  with  its  chain  and  to  loathe  the  conditions  of 
its  earthly  captivity!  If  there  were  no  sharp  pain  and  no 
rooted  sorrows,  this  would  be  so ;  but  when  these  are  added, 
what  wonder  that  men  tire  of  life?  Given  these  circum- 
stances of  earthly  experience  in  connection  with  a  hope  of 
heaven,  and  the  utterance  of  the  patriarch  and  the  Chris- 
tian's song  are  easily  comprehended.  They  are  not  adapted 
to  every  phase  even  of  religious  experience,  but  there  are 
few  devout  souls  who  cannot  at  some  period  of  their  history 
adopt  most  heartily  all  they  contain.  . 

It  is  well  for  us  that  the  inevitable  hour  is  looked  forward 
to  with  something  more  than  mere  resignation.  Providence 
and  grace  work  together  to  this  end,  so  that  the  Christian 
not  only  submits  to  the  divine  dispensation,  but  he  rejoices 
in  it  as  the  crown  and  glory  of  infinite  mercy. 


THE  DUTY  OF  LIVING. 

Few  men  in  their  senses  are  willing  to  take  the  responsi- 
bilities of  deliberate  suicide.  There  are  many — more  than 
is  ordinarily  supposed — who  would  choose  to  die  rather  than 


The  LiFK  That  Now  Is.  385 

live.  The  troubles  of  life  go  very  far  toward  reconciling 
people  to  death.  The  grave  to  m^ny  is  less  dark  and  re- 
pulsive than  life. 

The  Christian's  apprehension  of  the  subject  may  be  de- 
fective. The  natural  instinct,  which  is  strong  in  brutes  as 
well  as  in  men,  leads  us  to  cling  to  life.  The  objects  of  af- 
fection and  dependence  strengthen  our  hold  upon  it.  The 
instinctive  love  of  life  and  the  ties  of  natural  affection  con- 
stitute usually  the  main  incentive  of  living.  To  leave  a 
dependent  family  seems  to  be  the  uttermost  of  death's  ca- 
lamity. Where  the  natural  desire  of  life  is  overcome  by 
the  vanities  and  failures  of  it,  and  where  life  does  not  ap- 
pear essential  to  the  maintenance  and  happiness  of  kindred, 
there  would  seem  to  be  no  adequate  motive  of  continued 
struggle  here. 

It  happens,  with  these  inadequate  views,  that  life  is  held 
very  cheap.  Readiness  to  die  is  judged  by  the  state  of  rec- 
onciliation with  God,  by  the  absence  of  any  fear  of  death, 
and  by  those  longings  after  immortality  which  are  intensi- 
fied by  present  sufferings.  To  depart  and  be  with  Christ  is 
far  better,  doubtless ;  ])ut  does  the  work  of  God  come  in  as 
the  real  and  potent  reconciling  tie  to  life  ?  We  would  ask 
as  many  thoughtful  Christians  as  may  read  these  lines  wheth- 
er, in  their  reflections  upon  their  own  living  and  dying,  this 
highest  and  truest  of  all  motives  has  entered  much  into  the 
account.  In  view  of  the  probability  of  departure  from 
earth,  has  not  the  chief  and  only  concern  been  about  wile 
and  children  and  unsettled  temporal  afiairs?  These  inter- 
ests lie  near  to  the  hearts  of  all,  and  they  are  not  only  nat- 
ural but  right.  Is  there  not  something  wrong,  however, 
when  these  are  the  only  concerns,  and  when  the  service  of 
God  is  left  out  of  our  valuation  of  life?  Many  insure  their 
lives  for  the  sake  of  their  families  and  their  creditors,  but 
we  have  never  heard  of  any  one  insuring  his  life  for  the 
25 


386  The  Editor-Bishop. 

support  of  the  gospel  or  the  extension  of  Christian  missions. 
Such  instances  may  be^  but  we  are  not  able  to  recall  them. 

The  highest  value  of  the  Christian's  life  is  in  its  relations 
to  our  Father's  business.  To  live  is  Christ,  and  living  unto 
the  Lord  is  the  real  converse  of  living  unto  self.  To  live 
for  wife  and  children  merely  or  chiefly  is  an  elongated  selfish- 
ness. To  live  simply  in  obedience  to  natural  instinct  is 
brutish.  The  duty  of  living  grows  out  of  a  higher  concep- 
tion of  life  as  the  talent  to  be  improved  for  Christ's  honor 
and  the  furtherance  of  his  spiritual  kingdom.  The  Chris- 
tian, with  his  readiness  for  death  and  his  longing  for  heaven, 
is  bound  to  earth  by  the  strongest  of  all  ties.  Beyond  those 
other  considerations  which  are  common  to  all,  he  values  his 
life  for  what  it  may  be  worth  to  the  cause  of  religion  and 
the  general  good  that  he  may  do.  It  may  happen  that  he 
is  called  sometimes  to  take  his  life  in  his  own  hands,  and 
to  choose  between  a  present  martyrdom  and  a  prolonged 
life  of  devoted  toil.  The  point  is  determined  by  which  is 
likely  to  accomplish  most  for  God. 

Life  becomes  a  high  religious  duty  in  this  aspect  of  the 
subject,  not  only  in  the  sense  of  working  while  we  live,  but 
as  it  is  a  duty  to  live.  The  idle  servant  is  guilty  of  moral 
suicide,  but  the  reckless  servant  is  not  less  to  be  condemned. 
It  is  a  Christian  duty  to  live,  and  to  live  long.  It  is  better 
neither  to  wear  out  nor  to  rust  out,  but  so  to  husband  and 
distribute  the  strength  as  to  secure  the  greatest  longevity 
and  the  longest  usefulness.  ■ 

The  Scriptures  certainly  make  long  life  a  boon.  To  the 
worldling  it  appears  so,  but  not  less  is  it  desirable  to  the 
Christian.  The  "good  old  age  and  full  of  years"  is  the  ex- 
ultant crowning  of  the  Old  Testament  obituaries,  and  some 
of  the  promises  hold  out  long  life  as  the  greatest  blessing. 
Godliness  is  profitable,  "  having  promise  of  the  life  which 
now  is."    Parents  are  to  be  honored  "  that  thy  life  may  be 


The  Life  That  Now  Is.  387 

long  in  the  land,"  and  a  psalm  of  pronaises  concludes,  "  With 
long  life  will  I  satisfy  him,  and  show  him  my  salvation,"  It 
is  the  curse  of  the  wicked  that  they  "shall  not  live  out  half 
their  days."  If  long  life  were  not  a  thing  to  be  desired,  and 
upon  the  highest  grounds,  these  scriptures  would  be  mis- 
leading and  contradictory. 

To  the  good  man  long  life  is  desirable  on  many  accounts, 
but  chiefly  for  the  maturity  and  perfection  of  his  usefulness 
in  the  militant  kingdom  of  Christ.  Time  is  short — too  short 
to  do  much  in,  it  may  be — but  every  year  is  of  untold  pre- 
ciousness  to  the  earnest  worker  in  the  vineyard.  The  elder 
years  are  also  of  increasing  value,  in  which  the  accumulated 
capital  of  wisdom,  knowledge,  and  piety  is  expended  upon 
fresh  and  larger  enterprises.  Generally  people  look  for  re- 
tirement just  where  their  capacity  for  greatest  usefulness 
begins.  To  expect  early  retirement  from  active  and  devoted 
labors  in  religion,  and  to  count  upon  an  early  death,  are 
much  the  same  thing.  To  live  long,  and  to  labor  long,  is  the 
duty  to  be  set  before  us.  Long  life  is  a  blessing  to  us,  that 
we  may  attend  to  the  nurture  and  care  of  our  families  and 
see  our  children  settled  in  their  chosen  pursuits.  But  it  is 
u  blessing  for  another  and  better  reason,  that  it  affords  the 
completest  and  fullest  scope  for  the  accomplishment  of  the 
greatest  good. 

Nor  ought  any  underestimate  of  our  powers  and  oppor- 
tunities to  be  allowed  to  break  the  force  of  this  motive. 
The  most  inferior  talents,  amidst  the  most  unfavorable  cir- 
cumstances, will  accomplish  a  great  deal  if  they  have  time 
to  work  in.  Every  life  is  important  to  God  and  to  his 
work,  and  every  life  has  a  mission  which  is  essential  to  the 
cause  of  Christ.  You  may  think  it  matters  little  when  you 
die  or  how  long  you  live;  but  if  you  feel  that  you  have 
something  to  do  and  a  part  to  contribute  to  the  great  evan- 
gelical whole,  it  matters  much.     It  behooves  you  to  live,  to 


388  The  Editor-Bishop. 

live  to  be  old,  and  lay  the  completest  offering  possible  upon 
the  altar.  Our  old  Christians  are  precious  to  the  Church ; 
and  our  aged  ministers,  full  of  years  and  labors,  how  could 
we  do  without  them?  These  gray-headed  men  and  women 
in  our  congregations  and  our  church-meetings  are  now  do- 
ing their  greatest  and  best  work.  To  the  believer  there  is 
a  blessing  in  living  as  well  as  in  dying,  and  we  think  that 
too  much  stress  cannot  be  laid  upon  living  as  a  duty  we  arc 
called  upon  to  cherish. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  unwholesome  cant  about  the  van- 
ity of  life  and  the  blessedness  of  death.  In  God's  order 
and  providence  death  is  a  blessing  at  any  time  to  the  good, 
and  we  are  grateful  for  the  light  which  providence  and  im- 
mortality shed  upon  the  problem  of  early  dissolution.  But, 
for  all  this,  there  is  a  beauty  and  love  and  godliness  here; 
and,  beyond  the  material  and  social  aspects,  living  and  liv- 
ing long  assume  the  character  of  a  sublime  and  sacred  duty. 
It  cannot  be  a  matter  of  indifference  to  the  believer  whether 
he  lives  or  dies.  If  instinct  were  gone,  and  social  ties  all 
severed,  and  the  way  to  heaven  unclouded,  his  Christian 
work  and  mission  would  suffice  to  make  life  valuable  and 
to  be  retained  to  the  latest  hour. 


NOTHING  TO  LIVE  FOR. 

This  expression  has  often  fallen  from  the  lips  of  the  pious, 
and  yet  we  question  the  considerateness  and  the  truth  of  it 
in  most  cases.  We  can  scarcely  imagine  a  situation  in  which 
it  is  justifiable.  With  no  higher  views  of  life  than  those 
which  are'held  outside  of  the  Christian  faith  and  revelation, 
there  are  many  circumstances  that  lead  to  this  utterance  of 
despair.  A  man  whose  interest  in  life  terminates  in  him- 
self, or  in  his  own  immediate  family,  or  to  whom  the  end  of 
living  is  in  physical  enjoyment  or  the  pleasures  and  sue- 


The  Life  That  Now  Is.  389 

cesses  of  business,  politics,  or  literature,  may  arrive  at  a 
point  where  these  objects  are  utterly  and  hopelessly  gone. 

If  mere  enjoyment  and  happiness,  in  its  common  accep- 
tation, be  the  absorbing  pursuit,  these  may  be  exhausted 
long  before  the  appointed  years  are  numbered.  It  happens 
that  the  individual  is  bereft,  in  the  summer  or  winter  time 
of  his  age,  of  those  for  whom  he  was  living — flower  and 
leaf  and  bi-anch  are  lopped  off.  Or,  he  has  reached  an  age 
when  the  physical  senses  have  lost  their  delicacy  as  avenues 
of  grateful  sensations.  Contemporary  men  and  women  have 
passed,  and  he  is  left;  alone  in  a  young  world  with  which  he 
finds  little  that  is  congenial.  The  fortune  he  has  sought  has 
eluded  his  grasp  or  has  melted  away  from  his  possession. 
He  finds  himself  Avithout  a  country  after  long  years  and 
prayers  for  its  welfare.  He  feels  himself  to  be  disinherited 
and  ejected  from  the  world  in  which  were  all  his  hopes  and 
joys. 

A  Christian  is  not  insensible  to  these  influences,  and,  un- 
der stress  of  aflliction  and  disappointments  may  feel  that  he 
has  nothing  to  live  for.  The  words  are  unadvised  and  the 
sentiment  false.  We  are  supposing  that  things  have  come 
to  their  worst  pass ;  that  disappointment  is  at  every  turn ; 
that  we  are  so  bereft  and  stripped  that  the  worldly  eye  sees 
not  a  vestige  of  inducement  for  continued  existence  here. 
In  fact,  so  desperate  a  state  is  seldom  reached  where  even 
the  unbelieving  and  carnal  heart  will  not  find  something 
amongst  the  ashes  and  cinders  of  its  broken  and  devastated 
temples.  But  we  suppose  and  admit  the  reality  of  the  worst 
that  can  be  stated  or  felt.  Here  the  afflicted  soul  comes  to 
the  conviction  of  an  aimless  life.  And  so  it  would  be  if 
there  were  no  world  to  come,  no  spirit  within  us  to  be  puri- 
fied by  fire,  and  no  millions  of  human  and  redeemed  creat- 
ures to  be  helped  by  us. 

Allowance  shou W  be  made  for  the  hour  of  paralyzing  and 


390  The  Editor-Bishop. 

alienating  grief,  and  for  the  shock  and  fury  of  the  overwhelm- 
ing storm.  But  does  not  this  feeling  of  uselessness  grow 
out  of  narrow  and  selfish  conceptions  of  what  we  live  for? 
The  snow-shoe,  by  placing  the  weight  on  a  broader  surface, 
sustains  the  wearer.  We  sink  because  the  base  is  narrowed 
to  a  point.  The  heart  has  lavished  its  affections  exclusively 
upon  a  single  group  or  speck,  instead  of  taking  in  its  afflu- 
ent sweep  the  races  and  generations  of  men.  The  ele- 
ments of  happiness  have  been  gathered  around  self.  Our 
earnest  prayers,  and  our  fervent  love,  and  our  tender  sympa- 
thies have  scarcely  extended  beyond  the  circle  of  family 
ties  and  personal  friendships.  It  is  a  shell  of  narrowness 
and  selfishness  in  which  we  have  been  living,  even  relig- 
iously living.  The  feeling  that  we  have  nothing  to  live  for 
reveals  this  terrible  defect.  If  our  Avorld  and  our  religious 
affections  have  been  pressed  into  this  limited  compass,  it  may 
often  be  deeply  and  sadly  felt  that  life  is  left  without  an  ob- 
ject. You  are  living  for  your  children,  or  for  an  only  child. 
They  are  taken,  or  the  idol  in  which  your  being  is  engrossed 
is  removed.  You  have  been  absorbed  in  the  attempt  to 
realize  some  ideal  of  earthly  happiness,  and  it  is  now  shiv- 
ered into  pieces.  What  is  there  left  ?  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
your  life,  its  purposes,  plans,  and  ends,  had  been  projected 
upon  the  broader  catholicity  of  Christ's  life,  and  your  mind 
had  been  "  the  mind  that  was  in  Christ,"  how  different  and 
how  much  more  cheerful  the  conclusion  that  would  have 
been  reached ! 

Self-love,  temporal  enterprises,  kindred  ties,  and  the  tem- 
perate pleasures  of  life,  are  allowable  ends  if  held  in  con- 
nection with  and  subordinate  to  the  claims  of  Christ.  It  is 
the  limited  and  imperfect  notion  of  duties  confined  to  our 
nearest  relations  and  inferior  interests  that  makes  it  possible 
for  any  one  to  say  that  he  has  nothing  to  live  for.  Surely, 
if  we  are  crucified  with  Christ,  our  sympathies  and  love  are 


The  Life  That  Now  Is.  391 

expanded  with  his.  The  natural  affection  Avhich  commend- 
ed Mary  to  the  care  of  the  beloved  disciple  did  not  exclude 
tender  solicitude  for  the  world.  Neither  did  devotion  to 
Jerusalem  swallow  up  that  wider  concern  for  all  the  ages 
and  races.  The  cross  is  the  exponent  of  an  unselfish  benev- 
olence whose  universality  stretches  so  far  beyond  humanity 
even  as  to  bind  and  reconcile  the  things  in  heaven.  There 
is  nothing  sectional  in  Christ.  His  name  and  spirit  rebuke 
it  To  put  on  Christ  is  aj;  the  same  time  to  put  off  self  and 
to  be  emancipated  from  sectionalism  and  from  the  bondage 
of  "inordinate  affection."  In  Christ  there  is  neither  Jew 
nor  Greek,  male  nor  female,  bond  nor  free. 

The  scope  of  redemption  embraces  all  relations  and  con- 
ditions, and  gives  its  own  breadth  to  those  who  are  imbued 
with  its  spirit.  The  heavenly  citizenship  breaks  over  all 
domestic  and  geographical  boundaries,  and  carries  us  wher- 
ever men  and  angels  live,  and  beyond  them  to  the  Univereal 
Mediator  and  the  one  God  and  Father  of  all.  It  is  only 
when  our  existence  and  its  objects  have  been  shut  in  to  the 
merest  atom  and  molecule  of  the  great  universe  that  this 
conviction  of  having  nothing  to  live  for  is  ix)ssible.  It  is 
really  the  hell  which  selfishness  and  idolatry  have  kindled 
about  the  soul.  It  is  a  death  and  despair  for  want  of  en- 
largement and  the  liberality  of  the  Lord's  Spirit.  When 
God  in  his  providence  takes  away  the  objects- around  which 
our  affections  have  been  gathered,  he  evidently  designs  to 
liberate  and  to  lead  out  into  other  and  w  ider  fields  of  use- 
fulness. The  odors  of  the  broken  vase  are  not  lost,  but  set 
free.  There  is  something  to  live  for  so  long  as  the  world 
stands  and  we  remain  in  it.  This  we  shall  realize  when 
the  narrowness  of  self  and  its  near  modifications  are  crushed 
out  of  us  and  we  attain  to  the  mind  of  Christ. 

"We  know  of  devoted  believers  who  for  years  have  kept 
their  beds  unable  to  feed  themselves.     Arc  such  examples 


392  The  Editor-Bishop. 

of  patient  suffering  without  their  value  to  the  Church  and 
the  world  ?  There  are  those  whom  age  and  infirmity  have 
retired  from  active  exertion  of  any  kind,  but  they  are  not 
shelved  so  long  as  prayer  remains  to  them  and  they  can 
bear  witness  to  the  faithfulness  of  the  promises  and  the  com- 
fort of  the  Holy  Ghost.  We  have  seen  believing  men  and 
women,  bereft  and  sonely  stricken,  thrust  out  into  greater 
usefulness  and  exhibiting  the  power  of  the  gospel  to  sustain 
and  comfort  as  they  never  did  before.  "When  we  have 
reached  the  point  where  it  seems  that  we  have  nothing  to 
live  for,  we  have  really  come  to  a  vantage-ground  of  useful- 
ness. The  loss  to  ourselves  is  a  gain  to  Christ,  and  we  arc 
now  furnished  for  earnest  work. 

How  can  any  Christian  be  Avithout  something  to  do  in  a 
world  like  this,  full  of  suffering  and  sin?  The  thing  that 
is  next  to  us  invites  effort.  Reduce  the  misery  in  your  own 
neighborhood  and  increase  the  comfort  and  happiness.  Take 
hold  of  the  most  homely  of  opportunities  and  be  content  and 
thankful  for  any  open  door,  so  it  enables  you  to  do  a  kind 
and  helpful  office  to  the  body  or  soul  of  one  for  whom  Christ 
died.  Especially  let  us  sometimes  go  beyond  the  limits  of 
kindred  and  the  tether  of  self  True  benevolence  may  be 
hatched  and  nurtured  by  the  affections  of  home,  but  it  must 
not  always  abide  in  the  nest.  Our  religion  is  unfledged  as 
yet,  unless  our  love  dares  a  wider  flight.  If  God  has  shaken 
and  thrust  you  out,  accept  the  lesson  and  apply  it.  If  he 
has  not,  do  not  wait  for  the  storm  or  the  bolt  that  shall  shat- 
ter the  bough.  Flight  strengthens  the  wings  and  gilds  the 
plumes. 


THE  GRAVE  AND  BEYOND. 


THE  DEATH  OF  FRIENDS. 

THE  death  of  those  with  whom  we  are  most  intimate,  and 
who  are  snatched,  as  it  were,  in  a  moment  from  our 
sight,  is  attended  by  sensations  such  as  no  other  event  ex- 
cites. We  part  with  friends  continually  who  are  moving 
to  distant  places,  and  whom  we  scarcely  expect  to  meet 
again  in  this  world ;  but  we  may  communicate  with  them, 
and  we  still  think  of  them  as  breathing  the  common  air  and 
moving  amidst  the  sunbeams  which  play  around  our  own 
footsteps.  In  these  separations  there  is  a  sorrow,  a  sadness, 
and  a  tearful  regret ;  but  we  are  consoled  by  the  reflection 
that  the  absent  are  in  the  body,  and  are  partakers  with  us 
of  the  nature  and  conditions  of  the  earthly  life.  We  may 
meet  them  again  in  very  much  the  same  state  in  which  we 
parted,  and,  if  they  are  still  alive,  our  conceptions  of  them, 
however  far  away  they  may  be,  are  of  the  familiar  forms 
and  voices  which  lingei-  in  the  memory.  We  follow  our 
friends  about  in  their  journeys  and  homes  and  employments 
here,  and  have  some  satisfaction  and  pleasure  in  picturing 
to  our  own  minds  just  how  they  are,  what  are  their  thoughts, 
and  what  may  be  the  visible  and  tangible  surroundings — 
the  earth,  sky,  and  people  amidst  which  they  dwell. 

Death  is  of  tremendous  significance,  and  the  eflTect  upon 
us  is  without  comparison.  What  it  is  to  the  one  called 
away — something  so  fearful,  so  glorious,  and  yet  so  incom- 
prehensible— we  can  imagine,  and  it  is  this  which  separates 
and  secludes  it  from  all  other  experiences.  As  it  relates  to 
the  living  the  sensation  is  new,  and  at  the  same  time  solemn 

1 393) 


394  The  Editor-Bishop. 

and  most  mysterious.  For  this  world  and  for  the  remainder 
of  this  life  we  know  the  separation  is  absolute.  No  message 
can  be  wafted  back,  and  no  post  will  ever  bring  us  tidings. 
No  cable  can  span  this  deep  and  bring  us  word  of  those 
who  have  gone  to 

Tlie  undiscovered  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveler  returns. 

Enoch  was  not,  "for  God  took  him."  Thus,  as  respects 
any  further  communication,  our  most  intimate  friends,  our 
dearest  kindred,  are  not.  They  have  vanished  from  us 
while  walking  by  our  side,  in  the  midst  of  discourse  unfin- 
ished, and  while  we  had  no  thought  of  their  taking  away. 
They  have  completely  dropped  out  of  the  affairs  and  associ- 
ations of  time,  and  so  absolutely  that  they  no  more  exist  as 
a  part  of  this  earthly  system.  They  are  not  on  the  earth, 
they  no  longer  breathe  this  air,  nor  do  they  inhabit  such 
bodies  as  they  once  had.  Nothing  so  prepares  us  for  their 
death  as  to  relieve  it  of  all  seeming  violence,  and  as  to  save 
us  from  the  inevitable  shock.  In  most  instances  the  warn- 
ing is  very  brief — a  few  days  at  most;  sometimes  there  is 
none  at  all.  But  where  age  or  long  illness  has  led  to  what 
we  supposed  was  a  calm  resignation,  the  moment  which 
marks  the  last  pulsation  and  ends  the  earthly  pilgrimage 
overwhelms  us  with  a  grief  and  a  desolation  which  it  would 
seem  impossible  to  anticipate  or  prevent.  In  this  state,  and 
altogether  as  they  were  in  the  flesh,  we  shall  see  them  no 
more;  and  when  we  do  meet  again,  how  different  the  cir- 
cumstances from  those  which  have  attended  our  associations 
here! 

The  death  of  any  one — even  a  stranger — as  announced 
in  a  morning  paper,  sets  us  to  meditating ;  but  the  death  of 
one  we  know  and  love  starts  a  peculiar  train  of  thought 
and  reflection.     Memory  is  quickened,  and  the  associations 


The  Gkave  and  Beyond.  395 


of  the  past,  the  history  as  it  has  been  connected  with  our 
own,  the  wrongs  and  negligences  in  ourselves  especially, 
and  our  failure  to  improve  more  fully  the  precious  com- 
munion, come  up  Avith  an  almost  preternatural  vividness 
and  rapidity.  It  is  a  time  fbr  self-reproach  when  we  feel 
that  reparation  is  impossible;  and  the  negligences,  omis- 
sions, and  inconsiderateness  of  days  •  gone  by  have  a  sting 
which  cannot  be  extracted.  But  we  do  not  dwell  on  the 
past  alone.  In  such  a  lame  way  as  is  in  our  power,  and 
doubtless  Avith  mdnifold  misconceptions  and  errors,  we  fol- 
low the  departed,  trying  to  realize  what  death  is,  what  are 
its  physical  and  mental  phenomena,  and  the  emergence, 
from  earth  and  flesh,  of  the  immortal  spirit.  We  must 
think  of  them  in  some  way,  and  have  some  sort  of  concep- 
tion of  their  being  and  of  their  employments.  For  their 
sakes,  as  well  as  for  our  own,  we  rejoice  that  life  and  immor- 
tality have  been  brought  to  light,  and  that  we  can  think  of 
our  dead  friends  as  helping  to  swell  that  great  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses which  surrounds  us.  They  are  "  saints  in  light,"  and 
they  are  still,  in  character  and  in  consciousness,  such  as  we 
have  known  them  on  earth. 

Every  tie  and  relationship  has  a  distinct  effect  as  realized 
in  the  death  of  kindred.  In  the  bereavement  'of  parents, 
children,  husbands,  and  wives  there  is  something  which  dis- 
tinguishes each  separate  sorrow.  The  death  of  parents 
awakens  feelings  unlike  those  excited  by  the  death  of  chil- 
dren, and  so  of  other  relationships.  Different  chords  ai*e 
touched  by  these  various  ministries  of  grief,  and  a  different 
class  of  emotions  is  stirred,  according  to  the  character  of 
the  affections  upon  which  the  blow  of  affliction  falls.  In 
reference  to  all  it  is  true  that  these  bereavements  have  a 
peculiarly  mellowing  and  refining  influence  upon  those  who 
yield  submissively  to  the  dispensation.  No  other  trouble — 
as,  for  example,  those  of  bodily  suffering,  or  the  loss  of 


39G  The  Editor-Bishop. 

property,  or  the  disappointment  of  our  plans  in  life — yield 
results  so  beautifying  and  enriching  to  the  soul  as  those 
wherein  the  tenderest  and  best  aflections  are  for  the  mo- 
ment bruised.  A  death  in  the  household  points,  as  no  other 
means  can,  to  the  unseen  and  eternal  world,  and  helps  to  a 
strong  realization  of  the  nearness  and  certainty  of  the  heav- 
enly and  the  spiritual.  There  is  surely  no  other  form  of 
sorrow  that  is  so  effectual  in  loosening  our  hold  upon  tem- 
poral things  and  in  exposing  the  emptiness  and  vanity  of 
worldly  success.  The  disruption  of  all  ties,  the  breaking 
up  of  the  associations  and  pursuits,  and  the  sudden  ending 
of  all,  stamp  the  earth  as  an  empty  and  worthless  thing 
apart  from  its  relation  to  the  future  life.  As  men  advance 
in  years  their  path  becomes  more  and  more  thronged  by  the 
images  and  memories  of  those  who  have  put  off  the  mortal 
tabernacle.  In  early  youth  we  scarcely  know  any  who 
have  passed  the  solemn  boundary;  but  every  year  adds 
some  friends  to  the  heavenly  company,  and  as  the  years  ad- 
vance the  number  is  greater  and  their  fall  more  rapid,  un- 
til at  length  we  seem  to  live  almost  exclusively  amidst  the 
recollections  of  those  who  have  passed  away.  The  aged 
survivor  especially  feels  that  he  is  nearly  alone,  and  that 
his  comrades  and  fellow-travelers  have  been,  for  the  most 
part,  transferred  before  him  to  "the  land  that  is  very  far 
off" 

The  death  of  friends  and  relatives  ought  to  affect  us 
deeply  and  in  a  manner  most  salutary.  But  the  sorrow 
should  be  such  as  consists  with  a  clear  apprehension  of  im- 
mortality. If  there  were  no  affliction  there  could  be  no 
sanctified  application,  and  the  blessed  and  golden  fruits  of 
this  peculiar  chastening  would  be  lost.  It  is  in  the  full 
blaze  of  life  and  immortality  brought  to  light  that  this  sor- 
row purifies  our  earthly  and  sordid  natures,  and  lifts  the 
soul  to  heights  and  glories  hitherto  unknown.     It  iss useless 


The  Grave  and  Beyond.        397 

to  prescribe  the  bounds  and  measures  of  the  anguish.  He 
who  is  "the  resurrection  and  the  life"  wept  over  the  form 
of  a  dead  friend  whom  he  was  about  to  raise,  and  his  sym- 
pathy comprehended  and  fathomed  all  that  the  stricken 
sisters  felt.  As  Christians,  however,  we  should  not  sorrow 
as  those  who  have  no  hope.  Our  dead  are  in  Christ,  and 
our  mourning  should  be  such  as  consists  with  an  unfalter- 
ing confidence  in  him  who  has  "the  keys  of  hell  and  of 
death."  All  mystery  will  soon  be  explained,  and  the  con- 
ditions which  separate  the  living  and  the  dead  will  pres- 
ently cease.  The  longest  life  is  but  a  hand-breadth,  and 
the  months  or  years  that  remain  will  be  passed  as  a  dream. 
Happy  for  us  if  we  may  fully  appropriate  David's  words 
of  faith  and  hope:  "As  for  me,  I  will  behold  thy  face  in 
righteousness;  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  in  thy 
likeness." 


DYING  AS  A  LITTLE  CHILD. 

Aged  saints  in  their  dying-hours  often  seem  to  return  to 
the  simplicity  of  their  childhood,  and  their  faith  and  trust 
have  the  sweetness  and  dewy  freshness  of  their  earliest  re- 
ligious experience.  It  was  Dr.  Guthrie  who  in  his  last 
hours  called  for  a  song,  and  when  asked  what  they  should 
sing,  replied:  "Give  me  one  of  the  bairn's  songs."  Dr. 
Paxton,  in  his  address  at  the  funeral  of  Dr.  Gardiner 
Spring,  stated  that  in  his  last  illness,  when  disease  Avas  add- 
ed to  the  infirmity  of  age,  he  seemed  to  be  taken  back  to 
his  childhood,  and  on  one  occasion,  after  repeating  a  child's 
hymn,  Dr.  Spring  repeated  also  the  evening  prayer  of  early 
days — "Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep" — and  added:  "God 
bless  me,  and  make  me  a  good  boy,  for  Jesus'  sake.  Amen." 
It  was  truly  a  divine  scene,  this  aged  and  learned  theolo- 
gian entering  heaven  as  a  little  child.     There  is  something 


398  The  Editor-Bishop. 


not  only  sublime  and  touching  but  instructive  in  such  facts 
as  these.  They  may  help  us  more  perfectly  to  understand 
and  appreciate  the  Saviour's  emphatic  declaration :  "  Ver- 
ily I  say  unto  you,  whosoever  shall  not  receive  the  kingdom 
of  God  as  a  little  child,  he  shall  not  enter  therein."  It 
would  seem  that  not  only  are  we  to  receive  the  kingdom  of 
grace  as  little  children,  but  the  kingdom  of  glory  also. 
The  child-likeness  which  constitutes  so  important  an  ele- 
ment of  conversion  and  Chjistian  character  comes  out  in 
its  greatest  clearness  and  beauty  at  the  end  of  a  long  ca- 
reer, and  just  as  the  immortal  crown  is  be  obtained. 

The  humility,  the  sincerity,  and  the  unquestioning  trust 
of  our  earliest  years  are  often  marred  by  contact  with  the 
discussions  and  skeptical  thought  of  maturer  years.  Un- 
consciously a  taint  of  self-sufficiency  and  pride  of  intellect 
have  been  permitted  to  soil  the  spirit,  and  the  soul  has  gone 
out  of  Christ  somewhat  to  wrestle  with  problems  of  theol- 
ogy and  philosophy,  and  to  grapple  with  secret  things  too 
high  for  human  comprehension.  For  the  earlier  and  truer 
processes  of  faith  there  has  been  an  attempt  to  reach  satis- 
faction and  assurance  through  the  investigations  of  science 
and  criticism,  and  by  the  unaided  powers  of  reason.  Some 
of  the  loftiest  and  most  erudite  minds  have  retained  the 
child-like  spirit  through  all  the  labors  and  attainments  of  a 
life  of  study ;  but  with  many  this  dew  of  youth  and  this 
precious  aroma  of  the  opening  flower  are  lost. 

Contact  with  the  world  and  the  maturing  of  the  appetites 
and  passions  have  a  tendency  to  stain  the  innocence  of  our 
first  experience,  and  to  darken,  where  they  do  not  alto- 
gether obscure,  the  soft  and  pure  light  of  life's  morning. 
Happy  are  they  who  pass  through  the  robust  ]>eriod  of  pas- 
sion and  active  life,  and  meet  and  contend  with  the  cares, 
business,  and  trials  of  the  world  without  ceasing  to  be  as  little 
children  in  their  thoughts  of  God,  and  in  their  trustfulness 


The  Grave  and  Beyond.  399 

respecting  Christ  and  his  promises!  The  religion  of  child- 
hood is  the  true  religion  of  the  whole  life,  and  the  condi- 
tions of  conversion  in  the  young  are  the  same  as  those 
which  meet  men  later  in  their  history.  Learning,  experi- 
ence of  the  world,  matured  mental  powers,  and  a  wider 
field  of  knowledge  contribute  nothing  to  the  ability  to  ap- 
prehend Christ,  and  to  believe  with  the  heart  unto  right- 
eousness. However  old  and  wise  and  learned,  the  impeni- 
tent sinner  must  get  back  to  the  point  of  tenderness  and 
hun)ility,  where  the  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  were  first 
consciously  felt.  The  repentance  will  be  more  bitter,  the 
awakening  more  terrible,  the  change  more  violent  and 
demonstrative,  but  the  humility  and  simplicity  of  the  trust 
in  Christ  must  be  that  of  childhood. 

The  Christian  life  is  a  growth  and  a  perfection,  but  its 
strength  and  ripeness  are  in  this  direction  of  likeness  to  a 
little  child.  It  is  the  wisdom,  the  safety,  and  the  glory  of 
the  mature  man  to  return  to  it,  and  to  keep  the  heart  in 
this  atmosphere  uf  gentleness  and  transparent  love.  The 
hours  of  birth  into  the  earthly  life,  the  spiritual,  and  the 
heavenly  are  doubtless  related.  The  birth  of  conversion  is 
invested  with  the  attributes  of  a  simple  and  trusting  spirit; 
and  these  same  qualities  are  present  and  prominent  when 
the  soul  struggles  into  the  glory  of  its  immortal  inheritance. 
If  there  has  been  a  certain  hardness  about  the  religious 
temper,  and  a  certain  finish  and  gloss  of  culture  and  learn- 
ing in  the  opinions,  these  give  way  at  the  last  to  the  meek- 
ness and  single-mindedness  of  the  first  love.  The  spirit, 
weary  and  baffled  with  its  efforts  to  attain  to  wisdom  and 
understanding,  comes  back  to  the  point  where  all  true  great- 
ness resides. 

The  aged  believer  throws  off  the  gathered  stores  of  all 
the  yeai-s  of  riches,  honor,  and  learning,  and  rejoices  to  get 
back  to  the  mother's  knee,  and  to  close  a  long  life  of  devo- 


400  The  Editor-Bishop. 

tion  with  the  infant  prayers  and  songs  with  which  it  began. 
This  unquestioning  confidence,  this  pure  gold  of  faith  sep- 
arated from  the  dross  of  skeptical  doubts  and  intellectual 
pride,  and  tliis  absence  pf  all  fear  concerning  the  life  to 
come,  are  as  a  balm  to  the  parting  soul.  No  elaborate  lit- 
urgies are  then  desired,  and  no  masterpieces  of  poetry  and 
music  are  asked  for.  "A  bairn's  song"  suits  best  the  soul 
that  is  near  to  the  melody  of  heaven,  and  the  prayer  which 
infant  lips  have  uttered  is  the  most  fitting  close  to  a  life 
which  now  glides  gently  into  a  world  of  perfect  and  endless 
praise.  Dying  as  a  little  child  is,  after  all,  only  to  die  the 
death  of  the  righteous. 

WHAT  WE  SHALL  TAKE  WITH  US. 

"Shall  we  take  our  memories  with  us  into  the  other 
world?"  Our  correspondent  might  as  well  ask  whether  we 
shall  take  ourselves  thither.  That  is  a  very  dubious  and 
modified  immortality  that  strips  us  substantially  of  all  con- 
scious identity,  denies  the  recognition  of  friends,  and  leaves 
us  almost  as  ignorant  of  our  past  existence  as  if  we  had 
not  lived  in  the  present  world.  If  we  do  not  take  our 
memories  with  us,  what  do  we  take  with  us?  If  our  en- 
trance into  eternity  be  like  our  birth  here,  with  no  sense  of 
preexistence  and  with  no  felt  relations  to  the  past,  what  is 
there  left  of  immortality  worth  the  name? 

We  take  ourselves  into  the  world  to  come,  and  this  means 
our  souls,  with  such  mental  faculties  and  spiritual  powers 
as  we  may  have.  With  no  recollection  of  the  earthly  life 
there  would  be  no  continuity  of  existence  to  us,  and  the  no- 
tion of  accountability  would  be  an  absurdity.  "  The  things 
done  in  the  body "  are  to  be  received  in  the  judgment,  and 
the  whole  process  of  reward  and  retribution  implies  the 
most  vivid  and  complete  remembrance.     Death  will  not 


The  Gkave  axd  Beyosd.  401 

break  the  thread  of  mental  and  spiritual  life.  Conscious- 
ness may  be  momentarily  suspended  in  the  transition,  but 
the  spirit  wakes  in  possession  of  all  the  attributes  of  its 
personal  and  intelligent  nature.  "  Son,  remember,"  were 
the  words  addressed  to  the  rich  man.  They  are  at  least 
significant  as  indicating  the  activity  and  uses  of  memory  in 
the  retribution  of  the  wicked,  and  we  may  well  suppose 
that  this  faculty  will  perform  an  important  office  in  the 
blessedness  of  the  glorified. 

We  shall  leave  many  things  behind  us — our  earthly 
friends,  our  temporal  pursuits, our  property.  "We  brought 
nothing  into  this  world,  and  it  is  certain  we  can  carry  noth- 
ing out."  The  miser  must  let  go  his  money-bags ;  the  mill- 
ionaire must  give  up  his  stocks,  bonds,  mortgages,  and  real 
estate ;  the  devotees  of  pleasure  must  part  with  their  dissi- 
pations and  revelry.  The  earthly  work  of  the  Christian 
ends  with  his  life  here,  and  the  goods  which  his  Lord  de- 
livered to  him  to  be  improved  must  be  surrendered  and 
accounted  for.  When  we  go  away  we  take  ourselves,  the 
characters  we  have  formed,  the  natures,  good  or  bad,  which 
have  been  developed  under  the  conditions  of  human  proba- 
tion. The  school  and  its  appliances  are  left,  and  the  pupil 
goes  forth  having  in  himself  the  results  of  his  fidelity  and 
diligence,  or  bearing  the  mortification  and  bitterness  of 
neglected  opportunities.  "As  the  tree  falleth,  there  it  shall 
be."     "  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap." 

Death  severs  our  relationships;  it  takes  us  away  from 
our  temporal  enterprises ;  it  dissolves  our  hold  on  property, 
and  separates  us  from  the  conditions  of  mercy  which  sur- 
round us  here.  But  it  makes  no  essential  change  in  char- 
acter. This  goes  with  ui,  with  all  that  character  implies. 
Death  does  not  destroy  it,  judgment  only  recognizes  and 
defines  it,  and  eternity  affords  scope  for  its  development. 
What  the  outward  circumstances  of  the  other  world  may 
26 


402  The  Euitor-Bishop. 


be  are  comparatively  unimportant  now.  The  great  deter- 
mining principle  is  in  ourselves,  what  we  are,  and  what  our 
relations  to  the  infinite  and  holy  God.  The  pure  in  heart 
shall  see  God,  Sowing  to  the  flesh  will  surely  be  followed 
by  a  harvest  of  corruption. 

It  is  well  to  ask  what  we  shall  carry  with  us,  and  then  to 
live  in  view  of  the  obvious  answer.  Let  men  make  to 
themselves  friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteousness;  let 
them  lay  up  treasure  in  heaven;  let  them  so  use  the  tem- 
poral that  they  shall  be  rich  eternally.  "  For  where  your 
treasure  is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also."  If  we  make  an 
idol  of  wealth,  and  live  merely  for  selfish  and  worldly  ends, 
we  shall  find  oui-selves  poor  indeed  when  the  final  hour 
comes.  Conscience,  memory,  and  all  the  endowments  of 
intelligence,  all  the  capabilities  of  the  soul,  will  only  con- 
tribute to  the  supreme  misery  if  the  spiritual  part  has  l)een 
neglected.  The  surprising  thing  in  death  to  many  will  be 
that  it  has  not  touched  their  characters  at  all,  and  that  it 
lands  them  on  the  eternal  shore  as  to  their  moral  and  spir- 
itual natures  just  as  it  overtook  then]  amidst  the  pursuits 
of  life. 

A  circumstance  connected  with  our  question,  and  to  be 
seriously  pondered,  is  the  fact  that  the  niost  die  at  a  time 
unexpected  to  themselves.  "  For  man  also  knoweth  not  his 
time;  as  the  fishes  that  are  taken  in  an  evil  net,  and  as  the 
birds  that  are  caught  in  a  snare;  so  are  the  sons  of  men 
snared  in  an  evil  time,  when  it  falleth  suddenly  upon  them." 
This  is  true  especially  with  the  unconverted.  They  fall  in 
the  midst  of  their  plans  and  before  they  have  given  earnest 
attention  to  the  interests  of  the  soul.  "  Death  took  him  by 
susprise"  was  the  remark  concerning  a  prominent  citizen 
who  died  a  few  months  ago.  A  surprise  to  his  friends  it 
was,  but  this  did  not  matter ;  but  to  be  surprised  himself 
had  to  us  a  very  solemn  and  startling  meaning.    How  com- 


The  Grave  and  Beyond.  403 

nian  this  experience  must  be!  Men,  women,  in  their  prime, 
and  young  people  in  the  freshness  of  their  years,  falling 
ing  sick,  or  by  violence  taken  off.  Unexjjected  blows  of 
misfortune  may  fall  upon  us,  but  we  can  recover  from  the 
shock ;  but  what  is  it  to  die  before  we  have  thought  about 
it,  and  to  be  suddenly  confronted  with  the  dread  reality? 
Truly,  what  shall  we  take  with  us  when  the  Son  of  man 
comes  as  a  thief  in  the  night,  and  when,  without  warning, 
the  soul,  unprepared,  is  hurried  into  the  spirit-world? 


HEAVEN  A  CHARACTER. 

The  most  important  and  practical  conception  6f  heaven 
is  that  it  is  a  character.  It  is  a  state  the  elements  of  which 
are  not  gained  after  we  get  there,  but  are  attained  here,  and 
carried  with  us  into  those  regions  of  light.  The  apostle 
gives  thanks  unto  the  Father  "  which  hath  made  us  meet 
to  be  partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light." 
The  atoning  blood  not  only  delivers  from  condemnation, 
and  from  the  curse  of  the  broken  law,  but  it  is  represented 
as  cleansing  from  sin.  It  not  only  satisfies  the  divine  gov- 
ernment and  vindicates  the  holiness  of  God,  but  it  saves  the 
soul  from  the  dominion  and  pollution  of  sin.  It  declares 
the  righteousness  of  God,  and  also  through  faith  purifies 
the  heart.  Both  as  a  legal  ground  of  condemnation  and 
judgment  and  as  a  possible  defilement  was  sin  to  be  taken 
away  by  the  Lamb  of  God.  Hence  the  washing  and  puri- 
fying power  of  the  blood.  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  his 
Son,  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  Of  the  same  import  is  the 
inspired  exclamation :  "  Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and  washed 
us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings 
and  priests  unto  God  and  his  Father:  to  him  be  glory  and 
dominion -forever  and  ever.     Amen." 

A  present  holiness  and  a  personal  is  contemplated  in 


404  The  Editor-Bishop. 

these  and  in  many  other  exhibitions  of  the  sacrificial  death 
of  the  Son  of  God.  Pardon  is  but  a  part,  although  the 
head  and  fountain  of  all  spiritual  life  and  experience.  The 
work  of  inward  holiness  is  connected  with  the  remission  of 
sina,  and  is  most  emphatically  declared  to  be  essential  to 
the  heavenly  life.  It  is  holiness  without  which  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord,  and  the  blessedness  of  the  pure  in  heart 
consists  in  this:  that  " they  shall  see  God."  To  be  saved 
in  heaven  ^ve  must  first  be  saved  from  sin  on  earth.  It  is 
true  that  "  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be,"  but 
there  is  no  uncertainty  about  what  we  must  be  in  order  to 
enter  the  heavenly  kingdom.  The  new  birth  is  absolute, 
and  without  this  birth  of  the  Spirit  no  man  can  either  en- 
ter or  see  the  beatific  inheritance.  As  to  place,  in  its  relation 
to  the  present  world  we  inhabit,  or  in  its  relation  to  the  vast 
system  of  material  bodies  which  stretch  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  most  powerful  telescopic  reflectors,  it  is  a  matter  of 
curious  and  unprofitable  speculation.  What  the  raised 
body  will  be,  what  the  mind  in  its  attainments  and  powei-s, 
and  what  are  to  be  the  splendid  and  sublime  accessories  of 
scenery,  employment,  and  society,  are  pleasing  themes,  but 
their  practical  importance  is  less  than  nothing  in  compari- 
son with  the  character  which  constitutes  our  fitness  for  the 
heavenly  home. 

Christ  is  the  foundation  of  all  our  hope,  and  it  is  through 
faith  in  him  that  we  are  to  be  saved ;  but  then  it  is  through 
faith  in  him  as  a  Saviour  from  sin.  There  is  no  other  way 
by  which  his  atoning  merit  can  bring  a  soul  to  glory  ex- 
cept that  which  regenerates  and  purifies  the  heart.  He  is 
the  ground,  the  procuring  cause,  the  meritorious  means; 
but  there  can  be  no  heaven  for  any  unless  they  have  at- 
tained to  sanctification  of  the  Spirit,  and  have  believed  with 
the  heart  unto  righteousness.  It  is  this  conception  of  a 
gracious  meetness  for  heaven  that  stimulates  the  healthful 


The  Grave  and  Beyond.  405 

Christian  life,  and  inspires  it  with  the  earnest  and  heart- 
searching  pursuit  of  holiness.  "And  every  man  that  hath 
this  hope  in  him  purifieth  himself,  even  as  he  is  pure." 
There  is  nothing  more  contradictory  or  absurd  than  to  talk 
of  holiness  in  heaven  while  the  attainment  here  is  neglected 
or  ignored,  unless  it  be  the  thought  of  the  irreligious  mind 
that  heaven  can  be  any  thing  conceivable  apart  from  the 
spirituality  of  those  who  compose  its  society. 

The  greatest  comfort  and  glory  of  the  gosj^el  are  the  free- 
ness  and  fullness  of  a  present  salvation  from  sin  which  it 
proclaims.  Heaven,  as  the  object  of  hope  and  pursuit,  is 
always  connected  with  the  purity  which  the  blood  of  Christ 
secures  to  the  believing  heart.  It  is  needful  and  profitable 
that  we  should  look  at  these  subjects  as  thus  related.  Ho- 
liness and  heaven — the  work  of  sanctification,  "  perfecting 
holiness  in  the  fear  of  God,"  and  the  city  which  "  had  no 
need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon,  to  shine  in  it;  for  the 
glory  of  God  did  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the  light 
thereof" 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


ONE  OFFICE  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 

GEORGE  MULLER  says  that  "one  office  of  the  Spirit 
is  to  bring  things  to  remembrance."  The  reference  we 
suppose  to  be  to  the  words  of  Christ:  "He  shall  teach  you 
all  things,  and  bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance,  what- 
soever 1  have  said  unto  you."  The  teaching  and  the  bring- 
ing to  remembrance  are  two  parts  of  one  process  and  oper- 
ation of  the  Comforter.  What  Christ  had  said  to  his  dis- 
ciples was  to  be  vividly  and  accurately  recalled,  and  the 
meaning  was  to  be  made  clear.  They  had  heard  much  that 
they  did  not  understand.  The  Spirit,  when  given,  would 
bring  to  remembrance  and  also  explain.  The  memory  and 
the  understanding  were  both  to  be  quickened  and  acted  on. 
Tlie  promise  was  fulfilled  in  th&  inspiration  of  the  apostles, 
but  does  not  the  promise  also  point  to  some  of  the  ordinary 
operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  experience  of  all  who 
are  brought  in  contact  with  revealed  truth  ?  While  there 
is  no  proper  inspiration,  there  must  be  a  divine  illumination 
in  order  to  the  apprehension  of  spiritual  things.  As  Paul 
declares,  God  must  shine  into  the  heart  "  to  give  the  light 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ."  A  great  deal  that  Christ  had  delivered  to  his  disci- 
ples was  neither  remembered  nor  comprehended  until  after 
the  Pentecostal  baptism.  It  remained  dormant  in  the  mind, 
and  out  of  the  sphere  of  consciousness  until  the  poAver  of 
the  Spirit  brought  it  forth. 

Something  like  this  seems  to  take  place  when  those  who 
(406) 


Miscellaneous.  407 


have  long  been  familiar  with  the  words  of  Scripture  are 
awakened  and  brought  to  repentance.  Promises  and  warn- 
ings that  had  long  been  forgotten  come  thronging  into  the 
mind,  and  they  come  with  a  force  and  meaning  that  they 
had  never  had  before.  In  the  hour  of  conversion  the  soul 
is  often  flooded  with  light,  and  Scripture  that  had  previous- 
ly been  distasteftjl  and  mysterious  is  called  up  and  made 
attractive  and  luminous.  In  times  of  trouble  and  great 
emergencies  passages  that  had  hitherto  excited  no  particular 
notice,  and  that  had  no  apparent  lodgment  in-  memory,  came 
forth  with  amazing  clearness  and  promptitude,  and  with  a 
new  meaning,  to  meet  the  needs  of  the  tempted  and  dis- 
tressed soul.  But  with  reference  to  the  unconverted  W'ho 
have  been  religiously  instructed  in  childhood  or  have  been 
hearers  and  not  doers  of  the  word,  is  not  the  Spirit  busy 
with  them  in  waking  up  the  memory?  For  long  periods 
there  may  be  utter  forgetfulness  of  the  early  lessons  of  pi- 
ety, and  the  scriptures  committed  and  the  sermons  heard 
may  appear  to  be  buried  in  oblivion.  More  than  this — 
there  may  be  the  purpose  to  forget  and  to  banish  all  serious 
convictions.  Impressions  are  sought  to  be  overcome  and 
driven  out  by  absorbing  pleasures,  vicious  indulgences,  en- 
grossing business  pursuits.  And  thus  for  yeai-s  the  seed 
sown  is  apparently  lost,  and  no  trace  of  the  truth  is  to  be 
discerned.  But  every  now  and  then  comes  an  awakening; 
the  prodigal  comes  to  himself,  and  he  remembers  his  father's 
house,  and  the  long-forgotten  lessons  come  tejming  in  upon 
the  heart  with  overwhelming  freshness  and  jwwer.  Such 
in.'lanccs  reveal  an  important  fact  in  reference  to  this  onQ 
office  of  the  Spirit  in  bringing  to  remembrance  the  things 
we  have  heard  and  which  we  are  disposed  to  neglect. 

Not  in  all  cases  does  this  work  of  the  Spirit  end  in  the 
repentance  of  those  in  whom  it  is  felt.  The  Spirit  may  be 
resisted  until  he  takes  his  departure;  but,  nevertheless,  he 


408  The  Editor-Bishop. 

strives  mightily  and  long  to  clear  up  the  clouded  memory 
of  sin  and  to  restore  the  convictions  that  have  well-nigh 
faded  out  forever.  There  is  this  ground  of  hope  for  parents 
who  see  little  immediate  effect  of  their  painstaking  instruc- 
tions. Their  children  may  forget  and  they  may  not  now 
comprehend,  but  they  may  prayerfully  count  on  the  Holy 
Spirit  as  their  ally  in  the  endeavor  to  bring  their  children 
to  Christ.  Thousands  who  hear  the  word  carelessly  and 
casually,  and  who  pass  out  from  the  house  of  God  and  from 
the  preacher's  sight  and  knowledge,  carry  with  them  that 
upon  which  the  Spirit  listens,  and  which  he  wields  with 
power  and  persistence  for  their  salvation.  It  is  a  ground 
ol  hope  that  Christ's  word  has  been  lodged  in  the  mind. 
The  Holy  Spirit  will  look  after  that  word  and  watch  over 
it  ever  afterward,  and  when  long  forgotten  and  obscured 
and  overlaid  by  years  of  neglect,  will  bring  it  forth  as  the 
battle-cry  of  an  aroused  conscience  and  make  it  the  instru- 
ment of  a  moral  revolution.  "The  just  shall  live  by  faith  " 
struck  Luther  on  the  stairs  of  the  Vatican,  slev.'  his  self- 
righteousness,  and  made  him  a  new  creature  in  Christ.  It 
was  through  the  teaching  of  the  Spirit  that  Wesley,  after 
ten  years  of  perplexity  and  struggle,  got  his  first  clear  con- 
ception of  faith  and  experienced  that  amazing  change  in 
which  he  felt  his  "heart  strangely  warmed." 

This  office  of  the  Spirit  has  much  to  do  with  the  growth 
and  progress  of  the  spiritual  life  after  conversion.  All  truth 
cannot  be  present  to  the  mind  at  once,  nor  can  it  be  fully 
displayed  in  a  moment.  The  Spirit  is  continuously  bringing 
to  remembrance  and  teaching.  Duties  are  recalled,  privi- 
leges exhibited,  doctrines  explained,  experiences  cleared  up. 
There  is  no  inspiration  of  new  truth,  no  revelation  apart 
from  the  written  word ;  and  yet  there  is  a  wide  and  wonder- 
ful field  of  divine  illumination,  by  which  the  memory  is 
acted   on    and  the   spiritual   understanding    is  quickened. 


Miscellaneous.  409 


How  prone  we  are  to  forget  and  how  slow  to  understand! 
These  are  among  the  infirmities  of  believers,  and  out  of 
them  arise  their  greatest  perils.  As  it  was  at  first,  so  is  it 
now;  and  the  Comforter  is  promised  to  us  to  teach  us  all 
things  and  to  bring  all  things  to  remembrance.  This  office 
was  not  limited  to  the  inspiration  of  apostles,  but  it  has  a 
continual  use  and  exercise  in  connection  with  the  ministry 
of  the  word  and  with  the  experience  of  all  who  are  brought 
into  contact  with  the  gospel.  It  lies  at  the  foundation  of 
our  hope  of  the  world's  salvation  and  of  the  final  triumph 
of  Christ  among  the  nations.  Only  by  the  Spirit  can  Christ 
be  glorified  in  the  heart  or  made  glorious  in  the  world.  But 
for  the  Spirit  operating  with  freshness  and  power  every- 
where and  always,  the  gospel  would  be  preached  in  vain. 
It  is  because  he  teaches  and  brings  to  remembrance  that  we 
are  sure  that  the  word  of  the  Lord  shall  abide  forever 


GOLDEN  VIALS  FULL  OF  ODORS. 

In  the  gorgeous  vision  of  one  section  of  the  Apocalypse, 
prayer  is  mentioned  as  connected  with  the  opening  of  the 
book  that  was  "  written  within  and  on  the  back  side,  and 
sealed  with  seven  seals."  None  but  the  Lamb  could  open 
and  read  that  book,  and  in  the  opening  of  it  the  prostrate 
and  adoring  living  creatures  and  the  four  and  twenty  elders 
"  have  every  one  of  them  harps,  and  golden  vials  full  of 
odors,  which  are  the  prayers  of  saints."  The  same  lesson  is 
presented  in  another  scene  representing  the  opening  of  the 
seventh  seal,  in  Avhich  "another  angel  came  and  stood  at  the 
altar,  having  a  golden  censer;  and  there  was  given  unto 
him  much  incense,  that  he  should  ofl^er  it  with  the  prayers 
of  all  saints  upon  the  golden  altar  which  was  before  the 
throne."     The  symbolical  import  of  incense  was  recognized 


410  The  Editor  Bishop. 


by  the  worshipers  in  the  olden  time:  "Let  my  prayer  be 
sot  forth  before  thee  as  incense,  and  the  lifting  up  of  my 
hands  as  the  evening  sacrifice." 

In  the  vision  it  is  the  prayers  of  saints  which  the  incense 
represents.  We  may  well  believe  that  no  other  prayers 
ever  ascend  before  God  so  as  to  influence  the  arm  of  God 
and  so  as  to  bring  blessings  down  upon  the  world.  The  cry 
of  penitence  is  heard,  the  prayer  of  the  publican  for  mercy 
is  answered ;  but  as  an  intercessory  power  and  as  a  means 
of  opening  the  gospel  to  the  world,  it  is  "the  effectual,  fer- 
vent prayer  of  the  righteous  man"  that  availeth  much. 
The  prayers  of  saints  are  in  those  golden  vessels.  They  are 
diffused  as  an  aroma  alx)ut  the  throne,  and  are  precious  and 
acceptable  to  him  who  sits  upon  it.  It  is  in  the  degree  that 
men  are  holy  that  their  prayers  are  recognized  in  heaven 
and  that  they  are  interwoven  with  the  dispensations  of 
mercy  and  salvation.  The  prayers  of  saints  are  ever  pres- 
ent, and  are  intimately  connected  with  the  opening  of  the 
book  and  the  loosening  of  the  seals  both  in  the  sphere  of 
providence  and  grace. 

The  value  of  prayer  is  exhibited  in  the  preciousness  of 
the  incense  made  of  the  most  fragrant  and  costly  materials 
and  in  the  costly  golden  vessels  filled  with  odors.  Prayer, 
thus  represented,  is  no  common  or  mean  commodity.  The 
opulence  of  the  ve^el  indicates  the  richness  of  its  contents. 
There  is  nothing  about  the  throne,  save  the  Lamb  himself, 
that  seems  to  be  more  esteemed.  The  harps  are  in  the  same 
hands  with  the  golden  vials,  and  yet  the  song  must  follow  the 
answered  prayer.  "  There  was  silence  in  heaven  about  the 
space  of  half  an  hour,"  and  that  silence  seems  not  to  have 
been  broken  until  much  incense,  with  the  prayers  of  all 
saints,  was  offered  upon  the  golden  altar.  The  seven  angels, 
with  trumpets  ready,  were  waiting,  but  no  one  was  sounded 
until  "the  smoke  of  the   incense,  which   came    with  the 


Miscellaneous.  41 1 


prayers  of  the  saints,  ascended  up  before  God  out  of  the 
angel's  hand."  We  may  not  penetrate  in  detail  the  import 
of  these  stupendous  events — the  trumpets  and  the  seals — 
but  the  connection  of  prayer  with  them  is  clear.  God's 
praying  saints  on  earth  are  among  the  most  conspicuous  and 
potent  actors  in  these  m'ghty  movements  which  are  directed 
from  the  throne  of  God.  The  book  is  not  opened,  the  seals 
are  not  loosened,  the  trumpets  are  not  sounded,  without 
prayer.  God,  angels,  the  living  creatures,  the  symbolical 
elders,  the  elements,  all  seem  to  wait  for  the  incense  of 
prayer  from  the  golden  vials. 

We  might  further  gather  from  this  imagery  that  the 
prayers  of  saints  are  carefully  preserved  and  their  power  is 
felt  long  after  they  are  offered.  They  are  treasured  up  in 
the  golden  vials — kept,  and  not  lost.  These  golden  vials 
are  so  many  depositories  of  life  and  mercy,  vigilantly  guard- 
ed by  the  golden-crowned  elders.  The  precious  vessels  are 
full  of  odors,  to  be  set  free  as  burning  incense  when  occasion 
calls.  Prayer  in  heaven's  charge  will  keep.  The  answer 
may  be  long  after  the  praying  saint  has  passed  to  his  reward. 
If  the  prayer  of  a  saint  and  according  to  the  will  of  God, 
it  must  sooner  or  later  ascend  as  incense  and  be  offered  upon 
the  golden  altar.  These  golden  vials  are  many — the  prayers 
of  every  branch  of  Christ's  Church  on  the  earth  and  of  the 
individual  saints  of  every  Church — but  they  all  reach  their 
common  destination,  and  blend  in  one  cloud  of  incense  be- 
fore the  throne.  What  a  single  saint  has  contributed  to  the 
grand  result  we  may  never  know,  but  each  prayer  helps  to 
open  the  books  and  to  break  the  seals  of  salvation  to  a  lost 
world.  As  there  are  no  individual  discords  in  the  song,  and 
as  the  harps  are  touched  by  many  hands  with  a  perfect  dia- 
pason, so  there  is  oneness  and  accord  in  the  prayers  of  saints. 
The  precious  gums  may  be  gathered  from  a  thousand  differ- 
ent trees  and  may  be  compounded  by  a  thousand  different 


4J2  The  Editor-Bishop. 


hands,  but  all  are  blended  in  one  cloud  of  burning  fra- 
grance. 

These  vials  of  prayer  are  vials  of  mercy.  The  same  vis- 
ion that  tells  us  of  the  golden  vials  full  of  odors  has  also  its 
vials  of  wrath.  How  much  the  world  is  indebted  to  the 
prayers  of  saints  for  God's  forbearance  and  long-suffering 
we  cannot  now  tell.  AVe  do  know  that  God  heard  Abra- 
ham's prayer,  and  that  the  presence  of  ten  righteous  men 
in  Sodom  would  have  saved  it.  But  for  the  prayers  of  the 
saints  that  are  in  the  world  the  divine  judgments  would  be 
far  less  restrained  than  they  are ;  and  but  for  these  prayers 
it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  day  of  wrath  would  have  come 
long  ago.  The  vials  of  wrath  are  filled  by  the  wickedness 
of  men.  The  ungodly  are  treasuring  up  wrath  against  the 
day  of  wrath.  They  are,  by  their  unbelief  and  disobedi- 
ence, tempting  God  and  inviting  their  own  ruin.  One  of 
the  same  four  living  creatures  who  at  one  time  had  a  harp 
and  a  golden  vial  full  of  odors,  is  at  last  represented  as  de- 
livering to  the  seven  angels  seven  golden  vials  full  of  the 
wrath  of  God.  When  prayer  has  done  its  work  for  the 
world — its  work  of  mercy — then  wrath  will  come  upon  men 
to  the  uttermost,  "The  vials  full  of  the  sweet  odors  of  love 
and  compassion,  and  freighted  with  the  incense  of  life  to  the 
lost,  give  place  at  length  to  those  of  doom.  If  men  do  not 
repent,  if  prayer  for  them  prove  in  vain,  then  the  vials  of 
wrath  must  be  poured  out. 

Meanwhile  the  vials  of  mercy — the  prayers  of  saints — are 
before  the  throne.  These  prayers  bring  blessings  upon  all. 
They  stay  the  hand  of  justice;  they  prolong  the  sinner's 
space  for  repentance;  they  enrich  the  Church  with  copious 
showers  of  grace ;  they  open  the  gospel  to  those  who  are  in 
the  shadow  of  death.  It  is  not  a  vain  thing  to  wait  on  the 
Lord — for  a  Avhole  Church  to  unite  in  special  prayer.  The 
prayers  of  saints  are  in  the  golden  vials  full  of  odors,  and 


Miscellaneous.  413 


the  fragrant  incense  rising  from  tens  of  thousands  of  pure 
hearts  ascends  and  fills  the  heavenly  place.  Doubtless  the 
new  song  has  swelled  afresh  from  the  hosts  above  on  this 
account,  and  we  may  look  confidently  for  the  outpouring  of 
mercy  upon  the  fields  of  our  earthly  Ziou. 


THE  HEATED  TERM. 

This  is  the  sun's  triumph.  The  clouds  seem  to  have  hid- 
den themselves,  and  the  sky,  from  dome  to  horizon,  is  all 
ablaze.  During  these  longest  days  the  sun  does  not  waste, 
but  grows  stronger  and  fiercer.  He  rises  early  and  sets  late, 
and  greedily  covets  every  moment.  How  grandly  and  irre- 
sistibly he  begins  his  burning  march,  and  with  what  lavish 
glories  he  adorns  the  scene  of  his  evening  adieu !  He  "  re- 
joiceth  as  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race."  How  he  seems  to 
gather  about  him  the  glowing  vestments  of  the  morning, 
and  at  evening  covers  himself  with  the  heat  and  splendors 
of  the  long,  long  day !     Blessed  sun! 

And  yet  shame  on  us  to  say  we  are  almost  sorry  when  his 
burning  eye  looks  in  upon  us  in  the  early  morning,  and  right 
glad  we  are  when  he  goes  down.  To  be  rid  of  him  for  a  few 
brief  hours  is  an  unspeakable  deliverance.  If  he  were  to 
shine  here  all  the  time,  at  night  skirting  the  northern  rim 
of  the  earth  with  only  half  his  fiery  disk  in  view,  how 
should  we  live  at  all?  The  midnight  sun!  We  want  none 
of  it.  It  is  not  the  perfect  day  that  we  long  for,  but  the 
perfect  night  rather.  Even  if  the  stars  were  to  disappear 
for  a  time,  it  would  be  a  relief;  and  the  comet  now  flashing 
in  the  north-eastern  sky  is  a  most  repulsive  visitor.  With 
the  thermometer  up  in  the  nineties,  a  glow-worm  or  a  light- 
ning-bug is  an  unwelcome  intruder. 

How  inevitably,  in  this  season  of  fervid  heat,  everybody 
thinks  of  cool  things  and  calls  up  every  scene  and  object  and 


414  The  Editor-Bishop. 

experience  associated  with  flowing  brooks  and  living  springs 
and  deep,  deep  wells,  out  of  which  come  the  overflowing 
bucket  covered  with  dripping  moss!  The  forest  dells  and 
ravines,  through  which  rivulets  gurgle  and  in  which  the 
notes  of  the  birds  are  fresh  and  liquid,  how  vividly  they 
come  to  us!  We  have  some  heart  now  to  think  of  arctic 
explorations,  and  almost  wish  we  were  in  the  haunts  of  the 
walrus  and  the  white  bear,  moving  amidst  the  fl(xjs  and  ice- 
bergs, and  well  on  our  way  to  solve  the  great  problem  and 
to  discover  the  Open  Polar  Sea.  Open  Polar  Sea !  Would 
it  not  just  now  be  a  satisfaction  to  know  that  there  is  none, 
and  that  there  is  at  least  one  spot  that  is  perpetually  frozen 
up?  Arctic  voyages  are  better  summer  reading  than 
"Through  the  Dark  Continent."  We  are  almost  tempted 
to  think  lightly  of  the  fate  of  Sir  John  Franklin,  and  to 
regard  it  as  a  most  rare  and  desirable  euthanasia. 

We  would  stand  on  the  Alps,  on  the  Apennines,  but  not 
with  the  thunder  talk.  W^e  would  climb  to  the  regions  of 
perpetual  snow,  and  stay  there  until  this  torrid  heat  be  over- 
past. Our  walls,  if  it  were  possible,  should  be  hung  with 
pictures  in  which  winter  scenes  predominate — fields  covered 
with  the  drifted  snow,  an  atmosphere  flecked  and  dappled 
with  the  falling  crystals,  forests  bowed  beneath  the  Aveight 
of  their  snowy  mantles,  streams  locked  in  icy  repose,  and 
railroads,  towns,  and  hamlets  completely  snowed  in.  It  is 
thus  that  in  sickness  we  dream  of  health,  in  poverty  that 
we  covet  riches,  and  in  delirium  that  the  thoughts  dwell 
upon  the  fountain. 

The  mercy  of  mercies  under  this  brazen  sky  is  the  ice  we 
have.  The  new  South  is  in  our  ice-factories.  Who  would 
not  be  fraternal,  seeing  what  a  surpassing  blessing  and  com- 
fort there  is  in  Northern  ice?  Better  than  its  politics,  bet- 
ter than  its  literature,  even  better  than  much  of  its  religion, 
is  the  ice.     We  are  brethren,  frozen  together  and  indisso- 


Miscellaneous.  415 


lubly  united.  Under  the  grateful  influences  of  the  music 
of  the  ice-pitcher  and  the  generous  cooler,  how  our  hearts 
warm  toward  our  Northern  brethren !  Its  effects  are  more 
magical  than  those  of  open  purses  or  the  most  gushing  dec- 
lamation. For  the  sake  of  a  cooler  climate,  we  might  be 
reconciled  to  a  three  months'  sojourn  in  the  White  Mount- 
ains or  the  Adirondacks.  We  are  free  to  confess  that  the 
North  is  the  better  country  in  the  summer-time,  and  thtvt 
during  the  summer  solstice  their  civilization  has  a  better 
chance  than  ours. 

The  problems  of  the  two  civilizations  are  different.  The 
one  is  how  to  estivatc,  the  other  how  to  hibernate;  and  this 
seems  to  be  the  point  of  contrast  the  world  over — how  to 
get  through  the  winter,  how  to  get  through  the  summer. 
The  easier  task  is  ours,  and  yet  it  is  not  without  its  dangers 
and  difficulties.  The  crops  are  growing,  and  the  bread  and 
raiment  and  wealth  of  the  country  are  in  the  silk  of  the 
corn  and  the  bloom  of  the  cotton-plant.  The  sun  is  making 
the  sugar,  the  wheat,  and  the  rice.  He  is  making  all ;  and 
while  we  swelter  in  the  city  and  toil  in  the  field,  malaria  is 
brewing,  and  there  is  death  in  the  pot.  God  is  over  all. 
He  has  appointed  the  bounds  of  our  habitations,  and  there 
is  good  in  all  and  blessings  always  for  them  that  love  him. 
In  this  melting  and  death-dealing  heat  let  us  think  of  hira 
who  is  "as  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land." 


THE  TWO  MARVELS  OF  JESUS. 

It  is  recorded  that  Christ  marveled  on  two  occasions — 
once  at  an  instance  of  unbelief  and  again  at  a  display  of 
remarkable  faith. 

It  was  in  his  own  country,  and  among  his  own  kinsfolk 
and  acquaintances,  that  he  was  the  greatest  offense  and 


416  The  Editor-Bishop. 

where  he  met  with  an  unbelief  which  astonished  even  him 
who  "  knew  what  is  in  man."  He  was  not  amazed  so  much 
at  the  general  unbelief  prevailing  in  the  world,  nor  was  he 
unprepared  for  the  doubt  and  enmity  of  the  Jewish  people; 
but  that  those  whose  privileges  and  opportunities  had  been 
greatest,  and  who  were  familiar  with  his  life  and  wonderful 
works,  should  reject  him  wa^  a  thing  surprising  to  him. 
"  He  marveled  because  of  their  unbelief"  The  Jews  in 
general  did  not  excite  his  wonder  by  their  malignant  treat- 
ment and  blind  opposition,  and  the  reception  which  the  gos- 
pel would  meet  with  at  the  hands  of  unenlightened  heathen 
was  foreseen  with  calmness  and  equanimity. 

It  was  unbelief  under  peculiar  circumstances  of  favor,  in 
the  presence  of  evidences  which  ought  to  have  been  con- 
vincing if  not  overwhelming,  that  wrung  this  note  of  aston- 
ishment from  the  Master's  lips.  If  faith  could  have  been 
reasonably  expected  anywhere,  it  was  there.  We  do  not 
know  that  he  ever  marveled  at  any  other  exhibition  of  un- 
belief. There  was  something  so  exceptional  in  this — it  was 
such  a  manifestation  of  prejudice,  of  willful  enmity  against 
truth  and  righteousness,  of  persistent  error  and  sin  in  the 
midst  of  the  brightest  displays  of  truth  and  goodness — that 
it  called  for  this  disclosure  of  wonder  on  the  part  of  the  Son 
of  God. 

For  hira  to  marvel  at  unbelief  was  far  more  significant 
and  a  much  more  striking  fact  than  if  it  had  been  related 
that  any  of  his  disciples  had  been  thus  affected.  Good  men 
may  marvel  at  such  unbelief  as  would  have  drawn  no  conim 
raent  from  the  Saviour.  Knowing  the  heart  as  he  did,  there 
was  to  him  nothing  surprising  in  the  usual  manifestations 
of  depravity.  We  may  be  dumbfounded  and  perplexed 
where  Christ  would  only  have  seen  those  depths  of  hardness 
and  sin  with  which  he  was  most  familiar.  Cases  of  impeni- 
tence which  provoke  Christian  people  to  impatience  and  de- 


Miscellaneous.  417 


spair  are  seen  by  him  with  forbearance  and  hope.  When 
Christ  marvels  at  unbelief  the  ease  must  be  far  out  of  the 
common  range  and  of  the  most  serious  and  desperate  char- 
acter. Unbelief  in  Nazareth  was  a  different  matter  from 
unbelief  even  in  Jerusalem  or  Samaria. 

The  type  of  unbelief  at  which  Christ  marveled  was  very 
nearly  that  which  men  in  Bible  lands  and  in  Christian  com- 
munities entertain.  It  is  that  practical  rejection  of  the  Son 
of  God  of  which  men  are  guilty  who  are  surrounded  by  the 
most  convincing  evidences  and  demonstrations  of  the  divine 
nature  and  authority  of  the  gospel.  Here,  under  the  very 
walls  of  the  churches,  within  the  sound  of  Christian  teach- 
ing and  song,  and  amidst  lives  and  examples  which  witness 
for  the  truth,  is  the  phase  of  unbelief  which  assumes  the 
nature  and  proportions  of  the  marvelous  in  the  mind  of 
Christ. 

From  the  astounding  unbelief  of  Nazareth  we  turn  to  a 
marvel  of  a  very  different  character.  A  centurion,  a  man 
of  war,  not  even  a  Jew,  comes  to  obtain  the  healing  of  his 
slave.  "I  am  not  worthy  that  thou  shouldest  come  under 
my  roof;  but  speak  the  word  only,  and  my  servant  shall  be 
healed.  For  I  am  a  man  under  authority,  having  soldiers 
under  me;  and  I  say  unto  this  man.  Go,  and  he  goeth ;  and 
to'  another.  Come,  and  he  cometh ;  and  to  my  servant.  Do 
this,  and  he  doeth  it."  Here  was  faith  of  the  very  highest 
degree  in  a  man  whose  life  was  apparently  unfriendly  to  re- 
ligion and  whose  surroundings  were  of  the  hardest  and 
»iost  worldly  character.  He  who  had  declared  his  aston- 
ishment at  the  unbelief  of  the  Nazarenes  is  now  surprised 
by  a  most  wonderful  faith.  "When  Jesus  heard  it  he  mar- 
veled, and  said  to  them  that  followed,  Verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  I  have  not  found  so  great  faith ;  no,  not  in  Israel." 
The  faith  of  the  leper  whom  he  had  just  healed  was  nothing 
in  comparison,  though  that  was  great  indeed.  It  excited  no 
27 


418  The  Editou-Bisiioi'. 

remark  whatever.  He  was  a  Jew,  acquainted  with  the  law 
and  the  prophets,  brought  up  in  the  knowledge  of  the  mi- 
raculous and  the  supernatural,  and  in  a  condition  to  under- 
stand and  appreciate  the  claims  of  Christ  as  the  promised 
Messiah  and  the  Son  of  God.  But  for  this  Roman  soldier, 
this  man  of  war,  this  heathen  born  and  bred,  what  could  be 
expected  of  him?  Paith  in  him,  and  such  faith,  was  some- 
thing wonderful.  Christ  marveled  at  this  faith  even  as  in 
the  other  instance  he  marveled  at  their  unbelief 

Something  akin  to  this  type  of  faith  may  doubtless  be 
found  in  those  who  believe  amidst  the  lack  of  helpful  con- 
ditions, and  who  exhibit  a  confident  reliance  and  an  un- 
shaken trust  in  spite  of  the  discouragements  and  hinder- 
ances  which  beset  their  path.  "So  great  faith"  anywhere 
would  have  been  extraordinary ;  but  so  great  faith  in  this 
man,  and  in  his  circumstances,  astonishes  Christ  himself. 
Such  phases  of  faith  noAV  and  then  appear  in  Christian  ex- 
perience in  the  man  of  business,  in  the  sailor  amidst  the 
rudeness  and  profanity  of  the  forecastle,  and  in  the  trials 
and  adversities  of  every-day  life. 

Here  are  the  two  marvels  of  Christ:  An  unbelief  which 
seems  to  have  shocked  and  astounded  him,  and  a  faith  which 
awakened  his  wonder  and  admiration.  One  was  the  very 
opposite  of  the  other.  One  was  the  extreme  of  sin,  a  guilt 
and  corruption  from  whose  terrible  depths  Christ  shrunk 
back  with  startled  wonder;  the  other  was  the  extreme  of 
grace,  a  loftiness  of  trust,  and  a  degree  of  humble  confidence 
which  excites  amazement  in  him  who  demands  the  faith  of 
all  men.  Either  would  be  a  fruitful  study  by  itself;  but 
when  the  two  are  thrown  together  the  contrast  helps  us  to 
measure  that  emotion  of  the  marvelous  which  both  alike 
excited  in  the  mind  of  the  Son  of  God. 


Miscellaneous.  419 


OLD  AND  NEW  METHODISM. 

Our  people  are  often  sharply  lectured  for  their  departure 
from  the  old  paths,  and  some  writers  and  preachers  are  al- 
ways ringing  the  changes  upon  the  defection  of  this  gener- 
ation from  the  stricter  practices  of  the  fathers.  We  have 
need,  no  doubt,  to  go  back  occasionally  to  the  primitive 
days,  and  to  mark  and  pattern  after  what  was  most  excel- 
lent. But,  after  all,  we  do  not  think  the  former  times  were 
better. 

In  our  doctrines  we  are  the  same,  our  pulpits  and  press 
mind  the  same  things  and  walk  by  the  same  rule.  The  ne- 
cessity of  the  new  birth,  the  witness  of  the  Spirit,  and  go- 
ing on  to  perfection  are  fully  exhibited.  Class-meetings 
may  have  fallen  off  in  some  sections,  but  in  many  churches, 
and,  we  trust,  in  the  most,  they  are  kept  up,  and  the  love- 
feasts,  we  believe,  are  everywhere  observed.  The  old  times 
certainly  had  no  advantage  over  us  in  prayer-meetings. 
They  were  not  more  regularly  held,  nor  more  spiritual. 
Then  it  must  be  remembered  that  sixty  years  ago  there 
were  no  Sunday-schools  to  speak  of,  Methodist  schools  and 
colleges  scarcely  existed,  and  the  subject  of  foreign  missions 
occupied  but  little  attention  in  comparison  with  the  present 
magnitude  of  this  enterprise.  Sunday-schools,  education,  and 
missions  are  the  achievements  of  new  Methodism  in  the 
main.  We  might  also  point  to  the  enlargement  of  our  pub- 
lishing interests;  to  the  better  support  of  the  ministry,  al- 
though still  below  the  standard  of  ability  and  justice;  to 
the  improvement  in  church-building,  and  to  the  general 
advance  in  the  grace  of  giving.  These  things  should  go 
for  something  surely  when  the  mood  is  on  us  to  censure  and 
scold  the  Churches  as  we  find  them  now. 

In  religious  experience  the  measure  of  numbers  is  greater, 
but  we  doubt  whether  the  proportion  of  chaff  to  the  Avheat 
is  greater  than  formerly.     The  demonstrations  peculiar  to 


420  The  Editor-Bishop. 

what  is  called  "  the  old-fashioned  conversion  "  were  ni«)st 
natural  and  common  in  those  days  when  the  mass  of  the 
converts  were  without  Sunday-school  privileges,  or  religious 
privileges  of  any  kind.  The  gospel  came  to  them  as  it 
never  can  come  to  children  who  have  had  religious  home 
training,  whose  habits  of  belief  and  prayer  have  never  been 
interrupted,  and  who,  from  earliest  years,  have  been  famil- 
iar with  the  Scriptures,  and  have  constantly  participated  in 
public  and  social  worship.  Repentance  to  the  man  who 
has  lived  in  sin,  and  whose  thoughts  have  never  been  di- 
rected to  the  subject  of  religion,  may  well  be  a  mighty  con- 
vulsion and  as  the  throes  of  an  earthquake,  while  he  who 
has  been  raised  in  the  Church,  and  has  lived  in  its  light, 
comes  into  the  conscious  peace  of  faith  with  a  quiet  joy 
which  scarcely  stirs  the  outward  demeanor.  We  may  count 
people  as  converted  sometimes  when  they  are  not,  and  it  is 
well  to  discount  most  revival  reports  to  some  extent.  But 
this  was  so  under  the  preaching  of  the  apostles  and  Wesley 
and  Asbury,  and  other  pioneers  had  occasion  to  lament 
over  it.  The  true  old-fashioned  conversion  was  a  conver- 
sion that  reformed  the  man  and  led  to  a  new  and  holy  life. 
We  have  long  ceased  to  judge  of  the  genuineness  of  a  con- 
version by  the  outward  demonstrations  of  the  occasion. 
We  can  point  to  good  and  exemplary  Christians,  some  of 
whom  went  through  a  great  and  bitter  agony,  and  others 
whose  cup  of  wormwood  and  gall  was  not  consciously  so  very 
bitter;  to  some  who  were  overwhelmed  with  the  wonderful 
light,  and  to  others  upon  whom  the  day  dawned  sweetly  and 
quietly,  but  not  with  a  suddenly  overpowering  effulgence. 

The  fact  may  be  assumed  that  the  conversions  of  these 
days  are  as  thorough,  scriptural,  and  powerful  as  in  the 
olden  time.  If  the  mere  phenomena  are  not  as  violent,  it 
is  owing  to  the  better  training  and  greater  privileges  of 
those  who  throng  our  altars  of  prayer.     For  deep,  intelli- 


Miscellaneous.  421 


gent  experience  in  the  things  of  God,  it  is  questionable 
whether  the  average  is  not  above  what  it  was  a  half-cent- 
ury ago.  We  have  not  read  better  in  the  old  Methodist 
books,  tracts,  and  magazines  than  some  we  have  heard  fi-om 
living  Methodists  within  the  last  six  months.  We  imagine 
the  proportion  of  those  going  on  to  perfection,  and  of  those 
who  have  attained  it,  is  as  great  as  it  ever  was. 

Our  administration  of  discipline  may  be  less  vigorous 
and  vigilant  than  under  our  fathers.  Preachers  are  per- 
haps not  as  careful  in  the  reception  of  members,  nor  so 
justly  severe  in  turning  them  out.  Our  people  trench  upon 
the  rules  concerning  gold  and  costly  apparel.  This  ought 
not  to  be,  but  then  they  give  more  to  Christ  than  they  used 
to  do,  and  some  allowance  may  be  made  on  account  of  the 
altered  circumstances  and  conditions  of  society. 

We  have  not  space  to  say  much  about  the  preachers. 
Our  bishops  do  not  live  on  sixty-four  dollars  a  year,  nor 
do  they  travel  across  the  continent  on  horseback.  Their 
labors  are  apostolic,  notwithstanding,  and  mentally  and 
physically  more  exhausting  than  those  performed  by  Mc- 
Kendree  and  Roberts.  The  sacrifices  made  every  year  by 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  preachers  are  equal  to  any  stand- 
ard of  heroism.  The  preaching  is  not  inferior,  either  in 
unction  or  in  mental  power.  We  could  institute  compari- 
sons between  the  leading  pulpit  men  of  this  day  and  those 
of  sixty  years  ago.  This  the  reader  can  do  himself,  and, 
we  are  sure,  not  to  the  disadvantage  of  new  Methodism. 

We  have  reason  enough  to  mend  our  ways  in  some  re- 
spects, and  to  recall  the  past,  but  there  is  progress  beyond 
the  old  and  also  beyond  the  new.  We  have  little  sympathy 
with  that  chronic  discontent  that  is  ever  harping  upon  the 
old  and  drawing  unfavorable  contrasts.  The  fathers  had 
their  imperfections,  and  we  have  ours;  but  to  say  that  ours 
arc  greater  is  more  than  truth.    It  is,  at  any  rate,  our  priv- 


422  The  Editor-Bishop. 

ilege  to  gather  up  the  wisdom  of  the  past  and  the  present, 
and  to  press  on  to  a  still  nobler  future. 


ELIJAH'S  MANTLE. 

Paul  reminds  us,  in  one  place,  that  he  owned  a  cloak. 
He  had  left  it  at  Troas  with  Carpus,  and  from  Rome  he 
writes  to  Timothy  to  bring  it,  "  and  the  books,  but  especially 
the  parchments."  This  is  all  we  know  concerning  an  apos- 
tle's cloak.  Whether  it  ever  reached  its  owner,  and  what 
became  of  it,  we  cannot  tell.  If  it  had  been  Peter's  cloak 
it  would,  beyond  a  doubt,  have  been  preserved  in  the  Vat- 
ican or  somewhere  else.  Elijah's  mantle  comes  down  to 
us  with  its  rich  historical  associations,  and  reference  to  it 
adorns  our  reflections  upon  the  eiithanasia  of  the  great  and 
good. 

The  prophet's  mantle  had  seen  hard  and  distinguished 
service.  We  first  hear  of  it  at  Horeb,  Avhen,  after  the  still 
small  voice,  "  he  wrapped  his  face  in  his  mantle,  and  Went 
out  and  stood  at  the  entering  in  of  the  cave."  It  was  with 
him,  we  may  suppose,  at  the  brook  Cherith,  at  Zarephath, 
at  Carmel,  and  his  constant  companion  throughout  his  event- 
ful career.  The  gray  overcoat  of  Napoleon  was  not  better 
known  to  the  French  army  than  was  that  mantle  to  Israel ' 
and  to  the  court  of  Ahab.  It  seemed,  from  long  use  and 
association,  to  partake  of  the  identity  and  personality  of 
the  wearer.  As  if  invested  with  something  sacred  and  su- 
pernatural, the  prophet  smote  and  divided  the  waters  of 
Jordan  with  it,  and  after  the  translation  Elisha  wields  it 
with  like  miraculous  power.  It  had  seen  hard  and  distin- 
guished service,  but  it  was  not  w'orn  out.  It  was  a  prize 
and  a  cherished  legacy  to  the  successor  of  Elijah.  Tiie 
mantles  of  the  prophets,  to  be  worth  remembering  and  in- 
heriting, must  be  of  this  sort.     The  service  they  have  seen 


Miscellaneous.  423 


and  the  condition  they  are  in  when  cast  off  are  mainly  im- 
portant. It  is  not  every  man,  nor  even  every  good  man, 
from  whom  a  mantle  of  power  falls  when  he  is  called  away 
from  his  earthly  course. 

The  prophet  casts  off  his  mantle  as  he  enters  the  chariot. 
It  fell  from  him.  It  gravitated  to  the  earth,  while  the 
changed  and  spiritualized  man  ascended.  The  mantle  had 
been  the  companion  of  his  toils  and  sufferings,  and  had 
ministered  ta  his  comfort.  So  far  as  it  was  the  type  of  his 
earthly  ministry  and  activity,  and  so  far  as  it  witnessed  to 
his  bodily  weakness  and  exposure,  it  was  meet  that  it  should 
be  left.  It  was  no  longer  needed  for  protection  and  com- 
fort, and  the  ministry  which  it  might  represent  was  at  an 
end.  The  prophet  must  leave  his  mantle.  Flesh  and  blood 
can  as  easily  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God  as  that  the  saint 
can  take  his  mantle  with  him  to  heaven.  His  personal 
work  and  mission  in  this  world  are  ended,  and  here  he  must 
leave  them  to  be  taken  up  by  othei-s,  and,  in  the  providence 
of  God,  to  be  perpetuated  until  the  day  of  judgment. 

Elijah  had  trained  a  man  for  the  purpose,  anointed  him  , 
by  divine  command,  and  he  was  ready  and  qualified  to  take 
up  the  fallen  mantle.  Moses  had  his  Joshua,  Christ  his 
apostles,  Paul  his  Timothy.  ISIartyrs  and  confessors  and 
saints,  as  their  mantles  have  dropped  from  them  in  death, 
have  left  their  life-work  to  others  of  like  heroism  and  de- 
votion. As  one  generation  throws  off  its  mantle  of  labor 
and  suffering  it  is  taken  up  by  another;  and  thus,  while 
God  translates  his  workmen,  the  work  goes  on.  There  are 
only  a  few  in  the  roll  of  the  centuries  who  stand  out  as 
preeminent,  and  who  have  impressed  their  individuality 
and  personal  greatness  upon  the  world.  Augustine,  Luther, 
Calvin,  Wesley,  are  almost  alone  in  their  eminence.  Abra- 
ham, Moses,  Elijah,  Paul,  tower  above  thousands  of  inferior 
note.     The  mantles  of  such  men,  in  the  hands  of  after  gen- 


424  The  Editok-BishOp. 

erations  and  Churches,  go  on  working  moral  miracles  and 
smiting  and  parting  the  waters  of  the  Jordan. 

Elijah  left  his  mantle — his  work  and  ministry — to  Elisha 
and  the  faithful  of  all  time;  but  that  which  he  could  neither 
leave  nor  bestow  was  the  vital  thing.  The  spirit  of  Elijah 
was  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  God  alone  could  give  a  "  first- 
born's" portion  to  him  who  sought  it.  The  mantle  had  its 
glorious  memories,  and  was  a  thing  almost  sacred;  but  it 
was  a  rag  at  best,  and  of  little  value  without  the  more  ex- 
cellent gift.  To  attain  to  the  power  of  Elijah's  ministry, 
the  spirit  that  hioved  and  sanctified  him  must  fall  upon  his 
successor.  A  succession  of  mantles  is  one  thing;  a  succes- 
sion in  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  quite  another.  The  mantle 
of  Church  polity  and  ordinances,  without  spirituality,  is  a 
worthless  shell.  The  mantle  of  a  creed,  worn  without  an 
inward  life,  is  a  cold  and  effete  affair.  Our  denominational 
names  and  our  pride  in  the  memory  and  achievements  of 
our  founders  are  empty  and  absurd  unless  the  Spirit  accom- 
panies. What  is  the  cloak  of  Wesley  worth,  or  that  of  Luther 
or  Paul,  unless  the  Spirit  that  blessed  them  and  made  them 
what  they  were  inform  and  stir  our  souls?  To  see  men 
strutting  in  the  gowns  of  the  apostles  without  the  spirit  of 
the  apostles  is  as  ludicrous  as  it  is  sacrilegious.  The  old  fable 
of  the  conceited  ass  that  invested  himself  with  a  lion's  skin 
comes  up  in  spite  of  us.  The  literal  mantle,  the  clothing  and 
millinery  of  a  religious  order,  are  in  the  line  of  a  belittleing 
superstition.  But  all  that  is  merely  outward  in  forms,  theolo- 
gies, and  symbols  of  faith,  and  the  traditions  of  the  fathers, 
are  the  embodiments  of  enervation  without  the  higher  and 
divine  gift. 

Nine  hundred  years  after  Elijah  ascended  a  man  ap- 
peared "in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elijah."  The  main 
thing  in  John  was  "  the  Spirit  and  the  power."  Outward- 
ly like  the  Tishbite,  as  became  his  peculiar  mission — rug- 


Miscellaneous.  425 


ged,  austere,  and  abstemious — mantled  in  the  same  minis- 
try of  a  reformer,  and  with  like  outward  conditions,  that 
which  made  the  Baptist  an  Elijah  was  that  he  came  in  the 
spirit  and  power  of  Elijah.  The  true  prophetical  ministry 
without  the  Spirit  is  an  impossibility.  Neither  Elijah's  man- 
tle nor  Paul's  cloak  can  make  a  saint  or  a  preacher  unless  a 
double  portion  of  the  Spirit — that  of  the  first-born  and  heir 
— be  poured  upon  him.        

THE  CAKE  AND  THE  CRUSE. 

The  food  which  the  angel  provided  for  Elijah  under  the 
juniper-tree  was  very  simple,  but  most  wonderfully  nourish- 
ing. A  cake  baked  on  the  coals  and  a  cruse  of  water  made 
up  the  frugal  repast;  but  the  prophet  "went  in  the  strength 
of  that  meat,  forty  days  and  forty  nights,  unto  Horeb,  the 
mount  of  God."  In  the  case  of  Moses  no  note  is  found  of 
any  meat  which  prepared  him  for  his  forty  days'  fast  in 
the  mount,  and  in  the  case  of  Christ  the  angels  ministered 
to  him  after  his  fasting  and  temptations  were  ended.  All 
were  alike  miraculously  sustained;  but  with  Elijah  there 
are  means,  although  supernaturally  given  and  invested  with 
at  least  preternatural  virtue.  Moses  and  Christ  were  sus- 
tained directly  by  divine  power;  Elijah  went  in  the  strength 
of  the  meat  which  the  angel  supplied. 

God  had  taken  care  of  his  servant  at  the  brook  Cherith 
by  the  ministry  of  ravens  and  the  flowing  streamlet.  Again, 
he  had  provided  for  his  daily  Avants  in  the  house  of  the 
Avidow  of  Zarephath  by  multiplying  the  meal  and  oil  as 
they  were  wanted.  However  strange  and  however  miracu- 
lous, the  supplies  were  daily,  and  suited  to  the  habitual  de- 
mands of  nature.  Here  he  eats,  and  by  this  single  repast 
is  made  strong  for  a  forty  days'  journey.  The  bread  of  one 
day  had  in  it  the  nutriment  which  the  bread  of  forty  days 
ordinarilv  hdd.    The  miracle  was  not — as  in  the  barrel  of 


426  The  Editor-Bisiiop. 

meal  and  the  cruse  of  oil,  or  as  in  the  Saviour's  miracle  of 
the  loaves — in  the  multiplication  of  the  quantity,  but  in  the 
adequacy  of  this  one  repast  to  last  through  so  long  a  period 
of  abstinence.  That  one  cake,  kneaded  by  the  hands  of  the 
angel  and  baked  under  his  eye,  had  in  it  the  nourishing 
properties  of  forty  cakes  ordinarily.  The  bulk  was  not 
increased,  but  the  life-sustaining  power  was  intensified. 
The  manna  of  which  the  Israelites  partook  had  to  be  eaten 
daily.  The  cake  was  not  less  miraculous  than  the  manna 
in  its  creation,  but  it  possessed  this  further  miraculous  prop- 
erty of  sustentation  long  after  it  had  been  consumed. 

In  this  respect  it  stands  out  in  peculiar  relief  as  something 
unique  and  to  be  distinguished  from  all  that  class  of  mir- 
acles which  has  some  features  in  common  with  it.  There 
was  a  virtue  in  that  cake  such  as  was  not  in  the  manna,  and 
such  as  was  not  in  the  loaves  and  fishes.  The  prophet  gath- 
ered no  fragments,  but  he  went  in  the  strength  of  what  he 
had  eaten. 

Beyond  the  lesson  of  providential  care,  the  archetype 
of  the  letter  may  lie  in  things  spiritual.  There  is  the 
feeding  of  the  discouraged  and  fainting  soul,  and  the  ever 
gracious  and  timely  provisions  which  prepare  the  believer 
for  unusual  trials  and  dangerous  and  difficult  undertakings. 
Often  there  is  occasion  for  the  girding  up  of  the  loins  of 
the  mind  and  for  extraordinary  manifestations  of  the  di- 
vine power  and  goodness  to  give  tone  to  faith,  to  quicken 
the  spiritual  apprehension,  and  to  invigorate  the  courage 
and  zeal.  We  imagine  the  transfiguration  had  something 
of  this  lasting  and  tonic  influence  upon  the  disciples.  Long 
years  afterward  it  is  still  fresh  in  the  mind  of  Peter.  It 
lingers  in  the  apostle's  memory  as  some  scene  of  wondrous 
brightness,  and  he  draws  upon  it  for  assurance  and  for 
the  vindication  of  his  faith.  The  majesty  of  Jesus,  as  it 
glowed  there,  is  vivid  and  lustrous  in  his  thought,  and  the 


Miscellaneous.  427 


voice  which  came  from  the  "  excellent  glory  "  is  clear  and 
melodious,  even  as  when  he  heard  it  in  "  the  holy  mount." 

Some  conversions,  by  reason  of  their  sharply-drawn  lines, 
are  especially  nutritious,  while  all  are  possessed  of  this  qual- 
ity of  lasting  virtue.  When  the  soul  is  truly  converted 
there  is  strength  in  the  meat  which,  under  conditions  of 
faithfulness  to  the  grace  given,  is  not  exhausted  by  the 
longest  and  most  trying  life.  The  frequency  and  aptitude 
with  which  Christians  refer  to  their  conversion  indicate  the 
consciousness  of  an  experience  whose  impetus  and  blessed- 
ness are  still  felt.  The  stream  which  took  its  rise  in  the 
birth  "  from  above  "  is,  after  many  years,  the  same  stream 
of  life  and  assurance.  We  would  throw  no  needless  suspi- 
cion upon  the  faith  of  those  whose  conversion  seems  to  re- 
quire an  almost  annual  renewal,  nor  are  we  to  lose  sight  of 
that  daily  grace  of  which  the  manna  may  have  been  the 
type ;  but  a  genuine  conversion  is  rarely  evanescent.  There 
is  strength  in  that  meat,  and  he  who  eats  it  will  be  likely  to 
press  forward  and  to  surmount  the  obstacles  which  lie  in 
the  pathway  of  duty.  There  are  passages  in  the  religious 
life  wherein  the  soul  receives  unwonted  blessings,  wherein, 
like  Jacob  at  Peniel,  some  great  victory  is  achieved,  and 
there  is  a  manifestation  of  truth  and  of  God  which  marks 
a  new  era  in  the  soul's  history.  The  believer  wakes  up  be- 
neath the  juniper-tree  to  find  the  cake  and  the  cruse  and 
heavenly  ministries  waiting.  And  from  henceforth  he  is 
strong  and  uniform,  and  treads  the  high  places  of  faith  and 
labor  with  a  triumphant  step.  In  that  nearer  approach  to 
God,  that  more  perfect  consecration,  and  tiiat  revelation 
of  the  Spirit,  he  has  found  an  inspiration  which  warms  his 
heart  with  a  deeper  joy,  and  gilds  his  subsequent  life  wnth 
a  peculiar  brightness. 

There  are  means  of  grace,  protracted  and  camp  meetings, 
or  hours  of  secret  prayer,  which  make  epochs  in   the  his- 


428  The  Editor-Bishop. 

tory  of  souls — occasions  in  which  the  hungry  heart  receives 
a  portion  which  invigorates  it  for  years  and  even  for  a  life- 
time.    Not  all  sermons  have  this  quality  of  feeding  the  spir- 
itual man.     Dainty  rhetoric,  well-rounded  periods,  meta- 
physical speculations,  and  scientific  apologies  are  not  likely 
to  give  life  to  the  fainting  and  weary.     Crutle  and  loose- 
jointed  amplifications,  soulless  commonplaces,  are  a  mock- 
ery.    The   real   preaching  of  the  gospel  is  strengthening 
meat.     The  cake  and  the  cruse  of  water  were  very  plain 
and  frugal  fare,  but  an   angel  provided  them,  and  they 
Avere  suited  to  the  weary  traveler's  needs.     We  doubt  not 
the  cake  had  been  turned  and  Avas  well  done,  and  that  the 
homely  cruse  was  filled  to  the  brim  with  water  pure  and 
sparkling.    There  was  no  raw  dough,  no  muddy  water.    If 
in  Christ's  name,  and  invested  with  a  ministry  higher  than 
that  of  the  angels,  men  are  called  to  "feed  the  flock  of 
God,"  they  must  look  well  to  the  cake  and  the  cruse.     It 
is  food,  it  is  strengthening  meat,  that  the  hearer  wants,  and 
not  the  vapid  confections  of  light  literature,  and  a  gospel 
robbed  of  its  power  to  awaken  and  save.     We  feel  that  we 
have  been  to  preaching,  and  that  we  have  heard  a  sermon, 
when  the  soul  has  been  fed,  and,  when  we  go  away  in  the 
strength  of  that  meat,  prepared  afresh  for  the  toils  anl 
cares  of  life.     It  is  the  sermon  that  follows  us  home,  and 
rings  in  our  ears  all  the  week,  and  stirs  up  and  quickens 
the  conscience  for  a  long  time  after  we  have  heard  it,  that 
does  us  good. 

We  might  do  well  upon  the  properties  of  God's  word  in 
this  connection — how  its  promises,  precepts,  and  declara- 
tions are  nourishing  and  life-sustaining.  A  single  promise 
suflSces  for  the  meditation  of  days,  and  the  devout  spirit 
finds  food  for  weeks  in  a  solitary  passage.  Not  by  bread 
alone,  "  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth 
of  God,"  shall  man  live.     And  still  further  and  most  fit- 


Miscellaneous.  429 


tiugly  might  we  conclude  these  reflections  by  reference  to 
Hirn  who  is  "  the  bread  of  life,"  and  the  true  bread  which 
came  down  from  heaven.  Here  is  strengthening  meat  in- 
deed. The  cake  and  the  cruse  which  met  the  prophet's 
surprised  and  bewildered  gaze,  by  the  laws  of  association, 
if  by  nothing  more  legitimate,  bring  us  to  Him  whose  flesh 
is  meat  indeed,  and  whose  blood  is  drink  indeed.  He  that 
feeds  on  Christ  can  go  in  the  strength  of  that  meat  through 
the  rugged  wilderness,  and  beyond  the  heights  and  solitudes 
of  Iloreb,  even  to  the  heavenly  Jerusalem. 


LENTEN  COOK-BOOKS. 

We  have  seen  advertisements  of  them,  but  have  not  ex- 
amined the  books.  We  can  only  conjecture  Avhat  their  con- 
tents may  be.  We  do  not  know  that  the  use  of  them  is 
pi'escribcd  by  ecclesiastical  authority,  or  that  scriptural  war- 
rant is  claimed  for  them.  We  suspect  that  some  wide- 
awake publisher,  appreciating  the  commercial  value  of  the 
enterprise  and  seeing  money  In  this  new  and  unoccupied 
field,  has  of  his  own  motion  compiled  the  work.  Ordinary 
cook-books  contain  descriptions  of  dishes  that  are  innocent 
of  meat,  and  that  are  sufficiently  frugal  and  abstemious  for 
the  average  ascetic.  From  them  can  be  learned  the  most 
varied  methods  of  preparing  eggs,  fish,  vegetables,  and  of 
combining  them  in  ways  that  shall  gratify  the  palate  with- 
out pampering  the  flesh.  A  cook-book  just  for  Lent  would 
seem  to  be  a  needless  expense;  but  there  is  a  sentimental, 
perhaps  a  devotional,  demand  for  a  book  set  apart  for  re- 
ligious uses — one  that  has  something  devt>ut  in  its  title,  and 
in  which  the  type  and  paper  are  flavored  with  the  taste  of 
sncredness. 

The  announcement  of  lenten  cook-books  is,  we  fear,  a  bad 
sign.     If  people  wish  to  fast  they  can  certainly  do  it  with- 


430  The  Editor-Bishop. 

out  any  special  recipes ;  and  if  they  desire  to  eat  very  little, 
and  that  little  very  simple  and  plain,  the  more  obvious 
course  would  be  to  lock  up  all  cook-books,  and  banish  them 
from  the  household  and  kitchen  until  the  Easter  bells  shall 
sound  their  recall.  Science  and  art  can  comjwund  a  most 
satisfactory  menu,  such  as  the  gourmand  would  heartily  en- 
joy, without  so  much  as  the  smell  of  meat  about  it.  The 
fasts  of  which  we  have  account  in  Scripture  were  more  he- 
roic. That  of  the  Master,  from  which  we  suppose  the  mod- 
ern Quadragesima  takes  its  designation,  was  something  very 
different  from  this  lenten  fasting.  This  attempt  to  make 
things  very  nice  is  not  in  accord  with  the  austerities,  self- 
denial,  and  mortifications  ol  the  flesh  which  fasting  or  ab- 
stinence is  supposed  to  imply.  Elaborate  cookery  by  book 
looks  like  an  effort  to  disguise  the  bitter  herbs  and  to  find 
out  some  way  of  self-righteousness  which  shall  require  no 
sacrifice.  The  Pharisees  did  fast  twice  in  the  week  honestly 
and  severely,  and,  apart  from  its  supposed  justifying  merit, 
their  self-denial  commands  our  respect;  but  what  shall  we 
think  of  a  Pharisee's  claim  to  righteousness  while  the 
ground  of  it  is  sugar-coated  or  altogether  evaded?  AVe 
have  a  genuine  admiration  for  the  rugged  preacher  who 
lived  on  locusts  and  wild  honey.  He  was  a  voice  crying  in 
the  wilderness,  and  a  mighty  voice.  There  was  no  pretense 
and  no  sham  about  him.  His  was  a  hard  and  self-denying 
life,  with  no  elaborate  cuisine  connected  with  it. 

Fasting  is  good,  no  doubt.  Abstinence — a  modified  fast- 
ing— is  also  good  for  the  body  and  for  the  soul.  But  this 
cook-book  fasting  and  abstinence  is  at  least  open  to  sus- 
picion. Our  Romish  and  Anglican  brethren  have  reason 
to  be  alarmed.  Besides  the  excess  of  riot  of  the  carnival 
and  the  unrestrained  license  that  breaks  out  after  Easter, 
the  worldly  and  fleshly  spirit,  armed  with  its  cook-books,  has 
invaded  Lent,  and  laid  its  profane  and  sensual  hand  upon 


Miscellaneous.  431 


its  sacred  austerities.  As  a  period  of  special  religious  serv- 
ices and  of  private  religious  devotions,  the  leuten  festival  is 
most  commendable.  But  there  ought  to  be  something  of 
the  salt  of  self-denial  in  it,  and  the  mind  should  not  be  oc- 
cupied and  diverted  by  the  study  of  a  special  literature  for 
the  kitchen.  A  protracted  meeting  of  forty  days,  with  tem- 
perate living  in  the  meantime,  cannot  but  do  good;  pro- 
vided, of  course,  that  it  be  not  regarded  as  a  penance  for 
the  dissipations  which  were  suspended  on  Ash- Wednesday 
with  the  purpose  of  resuming  them  after  Easter.  How 
much  of  formality,  self-righteousness,  and  will-worship  there 
may  be  in  the  observance  of  Lent  we  do  not  know,  but  we 
may  hope  that,  with  due  allowance  for  these  abuses,  there 
is  a  considerable  gain  of  spirituality. 

To  those  of  us  for  whom  Lent  is  without  authority,  eccle' 
siastical  or  scriptural,  there  is  this  danger:  that  we  come  to 
regard  fasting  as  altogether  an  unspiritual  thing,  and  that 
we  conjc  at  length  to  neglect  it,  as  being  the  figment  of  a 
superstitious  and  perverted  asceticism.  Because  these  trav- 
esties and  abuses  of  a  duty  are  pushed  to  the  borders  of  ab- 
surdity, there  is  in  this  no  reason  why  we  should  utterly 
neglect  it.  The  old-time  custom  among  Methodists  of  fast- 
ing on  the  Friday  before  quarterly  meeting  and  on  other 
special  occasions,  and  private  fasting  or  abstinence,  has 
largely  fallen  into  disuse.  While  fasting  is  not  made  prom- 
inent in  the  l^ew  Testament,  and  while  the  authority  of  an 
explicit  precept  can  scarcely  be  claimed  for  it,  still  it  has 
its  uses  and  benefits  when  properly  observed.  If  it  induces 
a  healthier  habit  of  body,  contributes  to  clearer  thinking, 
promotes  control  of  the  appetites,  and  fits  the  heart  for  de- 
vout meditation  and  prayer,  there  is  reason  enough  for  it, 
even  if  it  be  not  made  obligatory  by  divine  command.  Pri- 
vately, as  Christ  directs,  each  one  may  exercise  himself 
herein,  and  discover  for  himself  how  much  and  of  what 


432  The  Editok-Bisiiop. 

kind  is  most  beneficial  for  him.  Our  General  Rules  and 
our  form  of  receiving  preachers  into  full  connection  seem 
to  contemplate  the  use  of  fasting  as  a  means  of  grace,  and, 
like  praying,  and  religion  generally,  to  be  distributed  ac- 
cording to  each  one's  conscience  and  circumstances  through- 
out the  year.  We  are  without  a  lenten  season  and  without 
lenten  cook-books,  but  we  are  »ot  without  the  usage  and 
custom  of  fasting.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  we  like  our 
Methodist  way  best,  and  we  would  recall  our  people  to  its 
observance. 


REVIVAL  EXPEDIENTS. 

The  fact  that  the  churches  are  deeply  exercised  on  the 
question  of  saving  the  people  is  a  most  hopeful  sign.  It  is 
a  token  for  good  that  they«are  casting  about  for  means  to 
reach  those  who  have  drifted  away  from  their  pales  and 
those  who  have  never  been  l)rought  within  the  immediate 
range  of  gospel  influences.  It  must  not,  however,  be  con- 
cluded that  the  regular  preaching  and  the  usual  organiza- 
tions are  failures.  The  basis  of  all  is  the  Church,  with  its 
ministry,  Sunday-schools,  and  its  trained  and  disciplined 
agencies.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  lay  evangelists, 
the  missionaries,  and  all  extraordinary  movements,  issue 
from  this  center,  flowing  from  it  as  from  a  fountain,  and  de- 
riving their  vigor  and  power  from  this  great  reserve  of  ma- 
terial support  and  spiritual  force.  The  work  of  evangelists 
would  not  exist  but  for  the  churches,  and  the  immediate 
fruits  of  their  labor  are  greatly  owing  to  the  seed  already 
sown  by  othei-s.  The  results  would  not  be  permanent  if 
there  were  no  pastoral  care  and  no  organizations  for  the  in- 
struction and  oversight  of  those  who  have  been  awakened 
and  converted. 

The  expedients  resorted  to  cast  no  unfavorable  reflection 


Miscellaneous.  433 


upon  the  old  and  tried  methods  of  conserving  and  spread- 
ing the  truth.  Solid  and  doctrinal  preaching  to  compara- 
tively small  congregations,  pastoral  visiting,  and  the  careful 
instruction  of  the  children,  are  as  much  as  ever  a  necessity. 
Whatever  may  be  effected  by  novel  ways— by  peculiar  modts 
of  presenting  the  gospel,  by  singing,  and  anecdotes,  and 
tact  in  the  manipulation  of  various  means — there  will  al- 
ways be  need  for  the  patient  laborer  and  for  those  who  work 
steadily  in  the  old-time  way.  Many  are  doubtless  tempted 
to  ask :  "  What  is  the  use  of  preparing  and  preaching  ser- 
mons and  of  going  through  all  the  painstaking  toil  of  the 
average  pastor,  when  such  men  as  Hammond,  Moody,  and 
Varley  so  far  outstrip  them  in  attracting  and  saving  the 
people?"  Their  ministry  is  necessarily  transient  in  its 
oj)erations,  passing  rapidly  from  one  field  to  another.  It  is 
not  likely  that  their  measures  in  any  one  place  would  com- 
mand unabated  interest  if  continued  year  after  year.  Their 
ministry  is  also  incomplete,  directed  almost  exclusively  to 
the  awakening  and  conversion  of  sinners,  while  the  work  of 
edification — the  training  and  maturing  of  Christian  charac- 
ter— is  necessarily  left  to  others.  Pastoral  care  and  Church 
discipline  are  needed  to  secure  and  perfect  the  fruits.  With- 
out these  the  results  would  be  almost  as  inappreciable  and 
evanescent  as  the  morning  dew. 

They  are  not  displacing  nor  doing  the  work  of  the  regu- 
lar ministry.  Their  expedients,  however  valuable  for  their 
special  object,  may  not  be  as  good  for  all  purposes  as  those 
with  which  we  are  familiiir.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  they 
would  prove  less  enduring  and  effective  in  the  long  run. 
Our  camp-meetings  are  exceedingly  useful  in  arresting  pop- 
ular attention,  in  awakening  sinnere,  and  in  quickening  the 
spirituality  of  believers,  but  they  are  accessory  and  supple- 
mental as  related  to  our  regular  Church-work.  The  expe- 
dients for  the  awakening  of  sinners  are  attended  by  preach- 
28 


434  The  Editok-Bishop. 


ing  specially  adapted  to  the  unconverted.  Let  us  not  fall  into 
the  habit  of  directing  our  efforts  too  exclusively  in  this  one 
channel.  The  precepts  and  doctrines  of  the  gospel  are  very 
largely  addressed  to  Christians,  and  no  inconsiderable  part 
of  the  pastor's  business  is  to  feed  the  Saviour's  sheep. 
Preachers  must  not  neglect  to  feed  the  flock  of  God  over 
which  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  made  them  overseers.  Christ's 
commission  to  Peter  was,  "  Feed  my  lambs,  feed  my  sheep." 
The  life  of  the  Church  must  be  nourished  and  kept  up.  In 
our  reaching  out  after  the  aliens  we  must  at  the  same  time 
give  due  attention  to  the  household  of  faith.  Under  too 
much  preaching  to  the  unconverted  the  Church  grows  cold, 
and  by  our  very  attempts  to  raise  the  dead  the  living  are 
killed.  Warning  and  teaching  go  together,  and  in  no  other 
way  can  we  present  every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus.  The 
most  direct  road  to  a  revival  of  awakening  power  is  through 
a  deeper  work  of  grace  in  the  Church.  A  vigorous  and 
healthy  life  here  is  sure  to  make  itself  felt  in  the  conversion 
of  souls.  The  wise  housewife  looks  to  the  quality  of  her 
leaven  as  well  as  to  the  manner  of  its  use.  More  spiritual 
preaching,  the  jiresentation  and  enforcement  of  personal 
consecration,  and  the  necessity  of  holiness  and  communion 
with  God,  are  needed. 

It  is  a  great  mercy  to  a  community  already  well  stocked 
with  churches,  Sunday-schools,  and  preachers,  for  some 
flaming  evangelist  to  come  along  with  new  and  peculiar 
methods  to  stir  the  people  and  to  draw  them  to  Christ. 
But  are  we  to  depend  upon  these  means?  Cannot  every 
preacher  save  souls,  and  cannot  every  Church  have  salt  in 
itself?  But  few  men  can  handle  the  popular  expedients 
which  are  so  effective  in  the  hands  of  Moody  and  Sankey. 
They  cannot  tell  anecdotes;  they  cannot  .sing  much;  they 
have  not  the  wonderful  tact,  the  histrionic  art.  Some  are 
no  doubt  endowed  and  called  to  a  s{iecial  work,  but  surely 


Miscellaneous.  435 


every  devoted  man  may  be  wise  to  win  souls,  and  every 
Church  may  be  the  source  and  center  of  saving  power. 
Churches  and  the  religious  people  of  a  community  wonder- 
ing at  the  success  of  certain  revivalists  may  be  waiting  for 
them  and  underrate  their  own  means  for  awakening  relig- 
ious concern  among  the  people.  God  is  not  dependent  upon 
any  class  of  measures  or  agents,  and  if  we  have  the  spirit- 
uality and  the  faith  his  abundant  blessings  will  be  showered 
upon  us. 

Withal,  let  us  not  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  the  measures 
of  the  modern  evangelists  are  very  much  after  the  old  Meth- 
odist way.  Our  field-preaching,  experience-meetings,  assur- 
ance, sudden  convereions,  direct  and  pungent  appeal,  the 
offer  of  a  present  salvation,  and  going  out  after  the  common 
people,  are  the  things  once  roundly  condemned  but  now  be- 
ing taken  up  by  the  Churches.  We  should  be  careful  to 
keep  up  the  primitive  fire,  and  by  all  means  hold  on  to  the 
methods  which  have  been  so  effective  throughout  our  his- 
tory. Revivals  are  going  on  in  various  quarters  of  our 
Southern  Church — in  Virginia  and  Georgia  especially — of 
remarkable  power.  The  whole  Christian  world  is  exercised 
and  expectant.  It  is  a  time  to  look  for  a  general  refresh- 
ing. All  our  resources  of  prayer,  all  our  efforts  as  Chris- 
tians, all  tried  and  lawful  expedients,  should  now  be  brought 
to  bear  upon  the  great  work  of  arousing  the  world  and  of 
seeking  a  Pentecostal  baptism. 


AN  EFFECTUAL  QUARANTINE. 

The  Bible  tells  us  of  one.  Of  the  heavenly  city  it  is 
written :  "And  there  shall  in  nowise  enter  into  it  any  thing 
that  defileth,  neither  whatsoever  worketh  abomination,  or 
maketh  a  lie."     Sin,  like  earthly  pestilence,  must  have  had 


436  The  Editor-Bishop. 

a  spontaneous  beginning.  Cholera,  and  yellow  fever,  and 
other  mortal  plagues,  are  indigenous  somewhere,  and  then 
they  spread  along  the  lines  of  travel  and  commerce  by  their 
contagious  nature.  Wherever  the  conditions  are  favor- 
able, there  they  develop  in  an  alarming  degree,  and  sweep 
through  communities  as  an  epidemic.  The  first  germ  of 
sin  was  hatched  in  the  will  of  some  creature,  how  long  ago 
and  how  far  away  we  cannot  tell.  The  beginning  was 
among  "  the  principalities  and  powers,"  and  it  spread  until 
our  earth  was  involved  in  the  fearful  calamity.  As  to  us, 
sin  is  an  imported  disease ;  and  yet  it  could  have  found  no 
lodgment  here  if  the  human  soul  had  not  voluntarily  opened 
the  door  for  its  admission.  It  is  the  peril — the  necessary 
peril — of  probation,  both  with  angels  and  with  men,  that 
sin  may  befall  them.  Doubtless  God  used  all  means  con- 
sistent with  his  moral  government  and  the  freedom  of  the 
creature  to  keep  sin  out  of  the  universe,  but  a  moral  quar- 
antine could  not  guarantee  absolute  security.  In  order  to 
holiness  there  must  be  freedom,  and  along  with  freedom  in 
probation  there  must  also  be  liability  to  evil.  Whatever 
the  barriers  were,  sin  got  in.  It  is  abroad  in  the  universe 
and  it  is  epidemic  in  our  world.  The  law  of  God,  the  high- 
est motives  to  obedience,  the  endowment  of  ability  to  stand, 
the  walls  of  paradise,  did  not  suffice  to  keep  it  out. 

As  prevalent  in  the  earth,  it  has  never  as  yet  been  con- 
fined to  any  particular  locality.  It  is  found  in  every  com- 
munity. Notwithstanding  the  watchfulness  of  parents,  the 
most  careful  training,  the  antidotes  of  prayer  and  precept, 
its  traces  are  found  in  every  family,  and  those  who  are  most 
completely  isolated  and  separated  from  the  social  infection 
are  touched  by  it,  and  sometimes  destroyed.  It  has  become 
the  study  and  care  of  the  good  to  protect  society  from  the 
influence  of  base  and  obscene  literature,  and  yet  these  fly- 
sheets  of  perdition  and  these  pictorials  of  hell  come  through 


Miscellaneous.  437 


the  Hues  to  contaminate  the  minds  and  to  debauch  the  im- 
aginations of  the  young.  In  spite  of  efforts  to  lay  an  em- 
bargo on  vice  and  to  set  on  foot  a  blockade  that  shall 
keep  out  drunkenness  and  licentiousness,  nearly  every  com- 
murity  is  pervaded  by  crime  and  immorality.  The  at- 
tempts of  churches  to  keep  out  sin  have  never  been  perfect- 
ly successful.  The  vows  required  are  strong  enough.  The 
terms  and  conditions  are  discriminating,  applying  to  goods 
as  well  as  persons.  In  some  cases  the  applicants  must  lin- 
ger for  a  season  in  a  sort  of  probationary  quarantine-sta- 
tion, and  in  general  they  must  give  vouchers  that  they  are 
free  from  contagion.  There  must  be  a  clean  bill  of  health. 
But  there  are  some  sinners  in  Zion  notAvitbstanding.  Here 
and  there  a  goat  is  seen  in  the  flock.  There  are  some  car- 
nal persons  among  the  spiritual,  and  sometimes  these  "roots 
of  bitterness"  smuggled  in  unawares  spring  up  and  trouble 
the  society  of  the  elect. 

Our  moral  quarantines  are  even  as  ineffectual  as  the  most 
of  those  which  are  established  to  protect  communities  against 
the  inroads  of  pestilence.  Both  are  justifiable,  and  are  pro- 
ductive of  some  good.  In  regard  to  the  latter  we  have  our 
doubts.  Some  seasons,  at  any  rate,  the  Avasting  disease  seems 
to  develop  with  wonderful  spontaneity,  and  quarantines  are 
no  better  than  fences  of  straw.  And  at  best  there  are  so 
many  avenues  to  guard,  and  the  subtle  germs  may  travel 
in  so  many  Avays — by  sea,  by  land,  and  through  the  atmos- 
phere— that  no  expedients  can  be  regarded  as  absolutely 
effective.  Sickness,  death,  and  sin  will  always  blight  this 
lower  world.  Neither  individuals  nor  communities  can  es- 
cape them. 

The  celestial  city  is  the  only  place  where  the  inhabitants 
shall  not  say  that  they  are  sick,  Avhere  tears  shall  be  Aviped 
aAvay  from  all  faces,  and  Avhere  there  shall  be  no  more  curse 
and  no  more  death.    There  the  bar  against  sin  will  be  absolute 


438  The  Editor-Bishop. 

and  effectual.  There  will  be  a  blockade  that  cannot  be  run, 
a  quarantine  that  cannot  be  evaded.  Without  will  be  the 
deadly  plague  of  sin,  for  it  is  written :  "  For  without  are 
dogs,  and  sorcerers,  and  whoremongers,  and  murderei-s,  and 
idolaters,  and  whosoever  loveth  and  maketh  a  lie."  There 
Avill  be  no  iutercoui-se  between  the  outer  universe  of  evil 
and  the  city  of  God.  Non-intercourse  will  be  the  estab- 
lished law.  There  will  be  no  coming  and  going.  The  sep- 
aration will  be  complete  and  eternal.  "And  beside  all  this, 
between  us  and  you  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed,  so  that  they 
which  would  pass  from  hence  to  you  cannot;  neither  can 
they  pass  to  us  that  would  come  from  thence."  The  good 
are  thus  shut  in  to  their  glorious  and  sinless  home,  while 
the  wicked  are  shut  out  by  an  irrevocable  decree  of  ex- 
clusion. Whether  these  restraints  are  of  power  or  only 
such  as  are  self-imposed  by  the  character  ot  the  holy  and 
the  sinful,  the  fact  is  still  explicit  and  clear.  There  is  a 
great  gulf  fixed,  and  this  may  be  needed  in  order  to  the 
security  of  the  redeemed.  Besides  the  strength  and  perfec- 
tion of  virtue  and  holiness  acquired  in  the  probationary 
trials  of  the  present  life  and  by  the  diligent  improvement 
of  the  divine  grace,  it  may  be  necessary  further  to  guard 
the  children  of  light  by  placing  them  beyond  any  possible 
contact  with  the  wicked. 

"Evil  foramunications  corrupt  good  manners,"  but  across 
that  "  great  gulf"  no  spores  of  infection  can  ever  be  wafled, 
and  from  the  outer  world  of  corruption  no  miasmatic  exha- 
lations can  ever  come.  Security  from  sin  is  assured;  and 
this  is  the  assurance  of  all  blessedness.  There  is  this  one 
obstruction  that  it  cannot  pass,  this  one  inclosure  it  cannot 
enter.  Along  with  a  clearer  understanding  of  how  moral 
evil  came  into  the  universe,  and  how  it  obtained  such  dis- 
astrous sway  in  our  world,  will  be  the  glad  and  rapturous 
assurance  that  sin  can  never  touch  us  more.     This  sense  of 


Miscellaneous.  489 


security  will  be  one  of  the  crowning  elements  of  heavenly 
liliss.  In  spite  of  our  quarantines  here,  we  live  in  fear  and 
trembling  lest  the  fearful  malady  invade  our  homes  and 
make  our  firesides  desolate.  In  heaven  there  will  be  no 
fear. 


THE  END, 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 

STACK  COLLECTION 


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